Forks
by Shahrezad1
Summary: "Oh, I'll be fine. I don't feel like murdering him with a fork or anything. Much. I'll get back to you in the morning." Judy receives another grim reminder that she's single. Nick tries his best to help, in his own way. Based on a true story. Eventually Wilde/Hopps.
1. Pity Party

**Forks**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: "Oh, I'll be fine. I don't feel like murdering him with a fork or anything. Much. I'll get back to you in the morning." Judy receives another grim reminder that she's single. Nick tries his best to help, in his own way. Based on a true story.

Disclaimer: Pffft, as if I own anything Disney-related. I don't even own the puns I use as currency!

This chapter's theme music: _It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To_ _, by Lesley Gore_

~/~/~

 **Chapter 1: Pity Party  
**

" _I don't even like parties."_

-Doris Day

"How was your party?"

The question came as soon as she walked through the door, her roommate's sleeves rolled up to his elbows and hands buried in bubbly dishwater.

She merely groaned and closed the door behind her, turning to land her fluffy bunny head against it with a thump. Her long ears drooped, violet eyes were closed, and the usual hop in her step was missing.

Nick's voice was as bland as two-day-old toast, "that bad, huh?"

She banged her forehead against the wood a couple more times before he felt the need to intervene.

"Woah, woah, Carrots! Don't ruin the finishing. Do you know how much a place like this costs in Zootopia?"

"Yeah," the rabbit grimaced, voice muffled, "half my paycheck."

"Which is precisely why you should stop accosting the door and instead sit back, relax, and scream into a pillow or something. How about I make you a fruit smoothie?"

His answer was the sound of her body hitting the couch, voice shouting into the machine-knitted fabric, before she flopped over, one pointed finger raised as the cop said, quite distinctly, "thank you. That would be lovely."

The fox resisted the urge to chuckle, no matter the fact that a couple of hours or days from now she'd look on the situation with the same degree of humor he was feeling. Nope, now was the time for friendship; later was the time for sarcastic shenanigans.

After he'd blended together a few key fruit choices into a frothy concoction, he shifted her jean-clad legs up enough for him to sit beside her. They were new, along with the emerald-green sweater that hung down to her hips and made her eyes pop. That and the pair of dangly earrings (gold hoops with little turquoise birds) made this one of the fanciest outfits he'd ever seen on the laid-back bunny, but she'd never really explained _why_ the outfit had been so important for what was really a hangout with old high school friends.

It had started with Sarah, a sleek dark-coated rabbit with amber eyes, calling her up out of the blue and suggesting a get-together with a handful of friends who were taking the train into Zootopia for the weekend. She'd suggested that they catch a movie and maybe even get dinner, and Judy spent time with friends (not including coworkers) so infrequently that Nick had gone from hinting that the hesitant bunny go, to almost strong-arming her into it.

He at least had poker night with the guys, a mix of 'Cops 'n' Robbers' that saw fit to call a truce twice a month—his own unique effort at building better relations between both sides of the law (albeit not with the shadier of his contacts). And although there had been a few hiccups, strangely it worked. For the most part.

But Judy didn't even have that! And when she _did_ get Leave she hung out with _him_.

Given that they had become best friends, despite his doubts to the contrary, it was pleasant enough. But in excess this became a bit much. Especially given that _this_ fox had lived a rather solitary life for the most part and bunnies, well, they were quite simply the opposite.

So Judy got some "friend time," and Nick was able to catch up on episodes of "Sherlock Hamster," via Newtflix.

At the time he'd only vaguely noticed the uncertainty she'd given off. Now, if her reaction to the evening was an indication, whatever had worried her had come true.

"So," he started carefully, folding his paws together, "you want to tell me what happened?"

" _Do_ I want to tell you? That is an excellent question," she reiterated slowly, using diversionary tactics, before abruptly laying down the line, "no. No, I don't."

He waited patiently, expression holding only pleasant neutrality.

"Am I going to tell you anyway…?" she continued to ask herself, staring blankly up at the ceiling. But the long-eared 'City Hero' didn't answer that one, merely groaning and flinging a limb over her eyes.

 _Yes._ _Yes, she would_. They both knew it.

"Okay, now you really have to clue me in," he said in a teasing tone," otherwise…"

"You'll keep bugging me till I die from your curiosity?" she filled in with dry expectancy.

"Exactly! So you might as well just tell me. For the sake of those vases that you just bought. We are both rather fond of them, after all," he prodded.

Her eyes popped open in order to glare, "I don't throw things, Nick. You know that."

He crossed one of his bowed legs over the other at the knee, long foot left hanging, "do I know that? Possibly. But I don't want to risk it; they are a rather lovely shade of green. Like my eyes."

It was his way of drawing her out, but if anything it pulled her deeper in. Judy Hopps yanked a pillow over her face in response.

"I don't want to tell you."

The ex-conman blinked down at her. Okay, this was getting a little…ostrich-like. And he couldn't help but feel a little hurt. Usually they told each other pretty much everything.

 _Well._ _She_ told him pretty much everything. He tailored his content for appropriate audiences by tamping down on the cynicism, oftentimes not divulging to the fullest extent the number of scams had been a part of over the years.

Onward and upward, right? No use looking back behind you.

"Fine, I'll bite. Why is it that you don't want to tell me?"

"It's _embarrassing_."

"Why is it embarrassing?"

And that, there, was the crux of the matter. Well, at least she cared enough about what he thought to be worried about his opinion of her.

"Judy," he said, going for sincerity, "you know that I would never laugh at you or make you feel uncomfortable."

The fox could practically _feel_ the glare coming at him.

"Okay, _much_. I wouldn't do it much," he tempered.

She maintained her dirty look over the top of the throw pillow before finally groaning and burying her pink little nose in the fabric, " _fine!_ I'll tell you!"

"Good. I knew that you would finally see sense," said he.

She began mumbling quietly into her not-so-blankety-comfort blanket. Nick poked her side with a gentle claw, "Nope! I can't hear you, Carrots."

" _Sarah was trying to set me up with a guy I liked!"_

He blinked green eyes. At her. Up at the TV across from them (it really was nothing more than a Goodwolf item on its way out the door). Back to her long, fuzzy feet.

"You wanna run that by me again, Fluff?"

" _Nick_ ," she flung the pillow away (appropriate, given that it was a throw pillow), "don't make me say it again. _Please_."

"Fine, fine. I just, you know, need some context. That's all."

Letting out a heavy sigh, she began to explain in full, avoiding eye contact the entire time.

"In High School I liked guy. Well, we were friends, really good friends," a puzzled pause, "he's a lot like you, actually. Now that I think about it."

"Wait, what?" his blinking began again.

Judy ignored the outburst, "then we kind of also had some college classes together, back when I was roommates with Sarah. So right after graduating from the Academy I kind of, _well_ , I told him."

"Told him what?"

"That I liked him."

"As in… _like_ -liked him?"

"…yeah," she breathed out, nose twitching frantically in contrast to her otherwise still form.

When it didn't seem like she was going to continue he prompted her with, "alright, so you told him. And then what happened? You've got me on the edge of my seat here, Carrots."

That earned him another frown and a smack on the leg by one strong rabbit foot. He gasped and grimaced, clasping the wounded spot in overly dramatized 'pain.' She scoffed at the act.

But, all joking aside, he really was curious. Judy rarely veered from her two loves—police work and her family, although not necessarily in that order—so the idea of someone drawing her attention enough for something like this to happen was…puzzling? Fascinating? Weird? The fact that that she'd compared the guy to him made it even more strange; was stalking conmen something that she did regularly, he wondered? He'd thought that he was a one-off!

Also, a part of the fox was surprised that the conversation hadn't come up sooner. True, they'd been friends for three quarters of a year, and roommates/partners for a much shorter amount of time, but there were certain topics that came up when you spent time with someone 24/7.

"Well…" she continued where she left off, "he told me that he _justwantedtobefriends_. He said that he didn't feel like he was _mature_ enough to…to have a _serious_ _relationship_. Which, you know, I respected him for. Being able to recognize that room for development, I mean."

He didn't know how to interpret that, so nodded, "alright."

"And I figured, 'hey, it's been eight months! Let's see where we're at,' you know? Plus Mom and Dad have been getting at me for being 24 and still single, so…" she huffed and rolled her eyes, just a tad. He still hadn't met 'the 'Rents' yet, but he had a feeling that they were loving yet highly…well, they expected a lot of her. Or maybe it was too little? In any case, they had certain expectations for her, which often created strain.

"And Sarah…" he prompted, starting to put the pieces together.

"She was trying to get us together. She's really big on people getting a happy ending. But, oh, Nick, I should have known the _minute_ that they came in that something was wrong!"

An eyebrow went up, "because you're…psychic?…and go through guilt trips when you don't know everything in advance?"

" _No._ Because Sarah pulled me into a hug and tried to say something in my ear! But she just said it so fast that I just didn't _get it!_ And she was trying to _warn_ me! So that I could brace myself," she explained, all in a rush.

"Against…?"

"For when _they_ sat together. Not Sarah, but… _them_. At the _restaurant_. Holding _hands_."

Which…apparently indicated the end of the world as she knew it.

What were they supposed to hold, ears? Tails? Who knew, maybe bunnies held each others' feet?

Okay, he admitted that it _would_ be upsetting to see someone that you'd potentially been interested in be in a serious relationship with a mutual acquaintance. Kind of like when an Ex-Girlfriend had picked Finnick over him. Sure, that relationship hadn't lasted, but _still_. It had smarted.

Or maybe it could be that it meant something more serious where she was from, among the mammals of Bunnyburrow…? Like a pre-engagement, engagement process? Well, in either case, there was probably more to the situation, so he opted to wait out the rest of the story.

The rabbit had clenched her eyes shut, "and at the time, in my mind, I _saw_ it but…I didn't quite register it, you know? Especially as it was right in front of me—not until later, anyway. And it _obviously_ means that he never told _her_ what I'd said to him. Otherwise she wouldn't have been so declaratory in front of me."

"Yes, holding paws is _very_ declaratory. Possessive, too."

She ignored the sarcasm, pausing before dropping the real bomb, "but here's the kicker. Later on his girlfriend said that they'd started dating a month after when I graduated—a _month_ , can you believe it?"

Oh. _Ow_. Okay, yeah. She had the right to be upset about that one.

"Sarah apologized afterward. She said that she'd found out on the train over, and had tried to warn me," she mumbled, then groaned, "and the worst part of all is that I thought that I was _over him! That we were okay being 'just friends!'_ But that was before I found out that he'd totally played the 'friend card' right before going off to date someone we both knew."

Okay, maybe _this_ was why she hadn't brought up the matter of 'The Guy' with him previously? Because now, as the situation was escalating a bit, he wasn't quite sure _what_ he was supposed to do to make what she was dealing with…better. Maybe just…patting her foot or something? Would having Mr. Big 'Ice' him help any? Or was this one of those bizarre times when women just wanted you to listen to them rant? He was never quite sure when conversations fell into that category.

"Back when he first said no, I told myself that there were more important things to worry about," the grey bunny continued in a semi-formal rant, sitting up now and using her hands to punctuate her point, "especially with how busy I was with starting at the ZPD, trying to be taken seriously and dealing with our first case—."

"Technically it was just yours, Fuzzy Bunny. I was only a key witness."

"It was _our_ case, Nick. Chief Bogo wouldn't respect you as much as he does unless he had a reason to do so. You know that all his officers are on uncertain ground until they have proven themselves."

"Further supporting the fact that it was _your_ case and not mine, given how he still treats me like the stuff raccoons clean up off the streets," Nick said with grim finality.

"It was _not_. And he treats you well. Well- _ish_. Like a peer, at the very least. You know how the bigger animals in the Precinct are around one another? It's like that. Anyway, let's focus here."

"Right," the fox nodded in mock-seriousness, once again folding his paws together, "I apologize. Please continue."

She shot him a violet-eyed warning look, "so I thought I'd gotten over him. But there's this part of me that still says, 'Marriage. Family. You want a guy like him in your life.'"

Her best friend's expression was skeptical, "you want _another_ conman in your life?"

The grey-tuffed female drew back slightly, confused, "who said that he was a conman? He's becoming a doctor—specializing in joint disorders."

Another blink, slow and green. _Well, then…_

She continued as though uninterrupted, "so…there's a part of me that's still _hoping_. You know? But the whole, 'not wanting something serious because he didn't feel mature enough for it' thing—that was absolute manure. Why couldn't he have just been _honest_ and say that he was interested in someone else from the start?"

Her shrug was all-encompassing.

"I would have understood! I mean, it would have hurt at the time, but at least then it wouldn't have been such a shock today. It was like I was _frozen_ , and then it just _hurt_ , a wave of _sad_ washing over me. Like something was pressing down on my chest, a weight, and I just couldn't _let it go_."

He winced for real this time, recognizing all too well the emotions she'd felt. Why did it always have to come back to the 'betrayal' emotion, something he'd faced regularly since childhood? You put trust in a person and then they stab you in the back—it happened nearly every time. Over the years he'd toughened himself against it, but with her it was like ripping off a scab. Because, for his floppy-eared partner, it was a new experience every time. She just trusted others far too much.

"Carrots…"

She drew in a deep breath, "I feel so stupid."

"No, Carrots," he immediately jumped to her own defense, reaching across the couch to place a gentle paw on her head, just between two drooping ears., "if anything, you did your best. I mean, you were honest with him about your feelings—that takes real guts."

"Well, I _had_ just made a vow promising my integrity," she said with some irony, "it was to Zootopia, true, but…I had to do the right thing."

"When you put it that way, I'm not sure if we took the same vow," he jabbed. When she rolled her eyes at him, he held up his paws in defense, "okay, no more jokes. _Sorry_. But you really did do the honorable thing. And, well, it's obvious why this guy's not studying to become a brain surgeon. Am I right?"

She laughed a tad wetly, and noticing the oncoming tears welling up in amethyst eyes, Nick exhaled heavily, "ah, _Judy_. C'mere."

Not waiting for her permission, he lifted her up like a half-grown fox kit into his arms, tucking the adorable bunny police officer beneath his chin.

"I'm sorry that he broke your heart—a second time, it seems. It really stinks to be hurt like that. But, you know, time will tell whether the two of them even work out, so you never know about the future."

"You are _terrible_ at this consoling stuff."

"Hey, I'm just getting to the good part, so shush. Anyway, what was I saying?" he resettled himself about her, arms protective and even his long bushy tail blanketing her in comfort, "the future. Yeah. So, you never know what's going to happen. Look at us, for example—I never would have guessed a year ago that I would be rooming with my best friend, who just happened to be an. _Adorable_. _Little. Bunny._ But here we are!"

She smacked his slightly-damp (her tears) arm half-heartedly, making it little more than a love tap. If she'd meant for it to hurt she would have used her feet, "don't call me adorable, Nick," then, after a pause, "you're right, though. You never know about the future."

He continued blithely, "and as they say back home, 'there's plenty more foxes in the den.'"

"I thought that it was 'bunnies in the burrow'?"

"Maybe in your world, Carrots."

"Well. I've certainly got some time to find 'the one,' if he _is_ out there. I'm only 24—everyone acts like it's the end of the world that I'm not married yet, but really that's not so bad."

"Exactly. And let me say from the point of view of a _very_ mature, adult-like 32-year old," he ignored her snort, "that there's always more time where that came from. There's always hope. You never know when love'll come _hopping_ through the door. Just watch, months from now this will be nothing but a blip on the horizon."

And it seemed to do the job as she sighed once more, her chest brushing against his with the movement. He briefly felt the rapid-fire pattern of her heartbeat, but it was gone in an instant, "I certainly hope so. I wouldn't want to have to experience this all over again."

~/~/~

 **AN:**

 **Yeah, I'm back. Check out my bio for the full synopsis of my return from serving a fulltime proselyting mission in Japan! Aaaaaand moving on to the story's actual Author's Note:**

So this fanfic was written with a reason in mind. :3

And that reason is: what Judy experiences in this story…recently happened to me. As in, within the last two and a half months. XD

Only he didn't start dating the other girl a _month_ after my initial interest was expressed, as Judy's friend did to her. He started dating her a couple of _weeks_ after. So. Take that how you will. *raises eyebrows and laughs*

Mostly I find the situation hilarious at this point. And the story _does_ continue in real time—so you better believe that it also continues in the next chapter.

But seriously, guys, learn from this fictional/non-fictional example and don't be stupid. Communicate honestly if you aren't interested in a girl. And this goes for the girls as well—don't break each others' hearts, m'kay?

 **One last note:**

All individuals involved in my real-life situation have received a pseudonym in this story, in order to respect privacy.

Newtflix—Netflix

Sherlock Hamster—Sherlock Holmes (this one took a while to get the right fit)

Goodwolf—Goodwill


	2. Cry Me a River

**Forks**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: "Oh, I'll be fine. I don't feel like murdering him with a fork or anything. Much. I'll get back to you in the morning." Judy receives another grim reminder that she's single. Nick tries his best to help, in his own way. Based on a true story.

Disclaimer: Pffft, as if I own anything Disney-related. I don't even own the puns I use as currency!

This chapter's theme music: _It's My Party and I'll Cry If I Want To_ _, by Lesley Gore_

~/~/~

 **Chapter 2: Cry Me a River  
**

" _My soul hurts."_

-Jennifer Elisabeth

 ** _Previously:_**

"Just watch, months from now this will be nothing but a blip on the horizon."

"I certainly hope so. I wouldn't want to have to experience this all over again."

 ** _Two Months Later…_**

Judy Hopps generally lived by-the-book. Especially at the Zootopia Police Department, where she worked. So, for example, she never took personal calls during the day—except on lunch break—and she most _certainly_ never checked her Furbook account during working hours.

But those few times she bent the rules—not quite breaking them, just bending them—she blamed it on Nick's influence.

So when her iCarrot buzzed the rabbit frowned, noted absently that she'd received a message, and returned the device back to her pocket.

At the desk parallel to her, Nicholas Wilde's eyebrow rose pointedly. They'd been spending most of the morning catching up on a backlog of paperwork, due to a mass kit-napping in Little Rodentia by someone who called themselves "The Pied Piper." They'd solved the case, but with all the leads involved it was absolute _murder_ to organize the data.

As such her partner was more than ready for a little break.

She ignored him, hoping that he would take the hint and keep his focus. Thereby helping her retain her own.

For all that her fox of a partner often put on a lazy, uncaring persona, he was great at remembering details. They stuck with him, the way the particulars of a hustle seemed to fall into place as he neatly and efficiently found loopholes in the law.

Obviously those days were done, but in the usual logical way she approached most aspects of her life it made perfect sense to apply said talents to their responsibilities on the Force:

She worked on tasks that required a divided sense of attention—small things that piled up easily. Judy could burn through a mountain of quick paperwork in the same length of time it took Nick to stare at the disorganization in open-mawed horror—while he put his talents toward elaboration.

So that day, as she was busy documenting a photograph here, and sorting a reimbursement there, Nick was writing out a description of the 'The Rock-Battle of the Pied Piper.'

Sure, Judy knew that Chief Bogo less-than-appreciated his, "It was a Dark and Stormy Night,"-style of narrative, but she was grateful for the effort he put into documenting their cases. It was his way of showing that he cared about their work, never mind the front he presented to the world. (Plus, it meant that she didn't have to try and sort events out on paper. Heaven knew that she couldn't keep her mind focused on one thing for that long—it was just always rushing ahead.)

However, once Nick's interest was lost, it was gone for good. And if that happened, well, he would drag her down with him and then _absolutely nothing_ would get done for the rest of the day.

Leaning toward her with his arm dangling over the edge of his desk—in reality Francine Pachman's old bedside table with sawed-off legs—Nick prompted her, "so. You gonna answer that?"

She briefly looked up at him from her own jerry-rigged writing table, a donation from McHorn until their new, scaled-down desks arrived. They'd been on back-order for months. It was what happened when you had a government job that didn't normally hire mid-sized to small mammals, "of course not."

His expression was skeptical, "you're not even curious?"

Judy shrugged, "I can find out at lunch."

"But what if it's an emergency?"

She gave him a bland, violet-eyed look, "I'm pretty sure that it's not."

Ignoring the possibility of ink-stained paws, he lifted his feet up onto the desk, slightly overlapping his report. As for his other limbs, they went behind his head as the fox lounged comfortably, "are you sure about that, Carrots?"

Judy huffed and rolled her eyes in his direction, "if there's a problem at home then they have _over two hundred_ other kits to call on for help. I might be in the third-oldest batch, but I am by no means the first bunny Mom would contact in an emergency. There are at least sixteen of my siblings that live a lot closer, distance-wise."

"You have _over two hundred siblings?_ " the stunned expression on his face was a bit much, she thought. After all, he _had_ seen the family photos she'd put on the fridge, even if they didn't include the youngest third of the Hopps herd.

He blew out an impressed breath, "your mom must have high pain tolerance."

Ignoring him, and opting not to explain that rabbits were tiny when born, she continued, "and other than you, the rest of the Force, the Bigs and maybe a couple of our neighbors here in town, there's not really anyone else to worry about. Meaning _NO_ other emergency texts."

"And what if it's the Chief?"

This time she actually turned in her seat to give him a deadpan look, then waved expressively toward the tiny supply-closet-turned-office door. True, their boss had a hard time clearing his shoulders past the entryway, but he still took the opportunity to lean his head in every once in a while and yell at them, "c'mon, Nick, you know that he prefers the personal touch."

"It was worth a try," the vulpine pointed out with a smirk, "seriously, though, two hundred?"

"It's closer to three at this point," she corrected with disinterest, "anyway, you're missing the point. If it's a text, it can wait. If it's a call, and it's someone actually important like, I dunno, my mom or something, then that might be a different story."

Shrugging as if to say, 'fine, it's your traumatic news story,' Nick returned back to the document he was writing up by hand. In cursive. With a fountain pen, complete with authentic ink splotches. He'd explained once that it was the simple things in life that brought him joy, and there was nothing more joyful to him than watching Chief Bogo pull out his reading glasses while glaring at the sheet. Then usually at him, as well.

But when her cellphone buzzed a second time his triangular, pointed ears immediately swiveled her direction. The rest of him soon followed.

"You really need to work on that insatiable curiosity of yours," she reprimanded lightly without looking up, "it might get you into trouble one day."

"You worried about 'curiosity killing the cat'?" he prompted with little regard for his politically incorrect joke.

She gave him A Look.

"Of course, I could remind you of all the times a certain bunny _I know_ decided to hop into the fray…" his words were interrupted by a startling sound. It was soft at first, beginning with a delicately played piano before moving into thoughtful singing that belied the meaning of its lyrics as the artist started describing how they were admitting that they had killed someone to their mother.

The song continued several more seconds as her brain tried to catch up and understand what was happening. As well as the fact that it seemed to be coming from her pocket.

Nick's smirk widened as _Bohemian Rhapsody_ continued playing, one paw propped on his slouchy hip.

That was **_NOT_** the ringtone she'd programmed for her parents!

Horrified, she snatched up her phone, if only to turn off the song. Across from her, Nick was hooting and howling with laughter, slapping his side to add rhythm to the music being played. Judy glared.

Pressing the 'accept call' button, she moved the screen into view and tried her best not to look flustered.

"Hi, Mom. I'm at work right now, so I can't really talk-," she started with, but was quickly interrupted.

"Sweetheart, how are you? Are you doing okay? How are you handling things?"

She shot a glance at her best friend, who had managed to fight down his laugh attack and was left wiping away tears. _No help from that corner_ , "yeah, of course I am. Did…did something happen? Is everyone alright on the farm?"

"On the farm?" her mother paused in her own concern to blink rapidly, "I mean, yes, we're all fine. I'm more worried about you. How're you doing, Bun Bun?"

"Um, I'm okay," Judy stated plainly, frowning slightly in confusion, "why wouldn't I be?"

"Haven't you been on Furbook recently? Sarah sent me a tex—oh, Hello Nicholas, dear."

Unnoticed, the fox had slunk up behind her in order to hear the conversation better. However, now that his presence had been given away Judy sensed Nick pulling himself up straight and giving her mother a respectful nod.

The whole process didn't involve a lot of movement but, for some reason, becoming abruptly hypersensitive, she distinctly felt the brush of his uniform against her back, the fur on her head ruffled slightly by the lift and drop of his chin. Both touches left a tingle behind them.

"Good morning, Ma'am. You are of course looking lovely today."

Judy had introduced Nick a month or so back as her friend and partner. They'd been politely congratulatory regarding his graduation from the Academy, and tentatively approving of the idea that she would be working in the police force with a natural predator of theirs. (Largely due to Nick charming the pants off of them. Who knew that compliments on their blueberries could have such an effect?)

Of course, that had lasted only as long as it took for Bonnie and Stu Hopps to discover that they had become roommates. Never mind that (1) he was a vegetarian, (2) they were best friends, and (3) he _most definitely_ wasn't going to 'take advantage,' of the situation (her father's words). From that conversation onward all bets were off when it came to parental approval.

It was like they expected for him to eat her in his sleep or something! She had a brief mental image of Nick as a brain-eating zombie, and it caused her to zone out for a minute as she mentally analyzed the particulars. After all, why the brain? Why not everything else, too? It seemed like such a waste…

The combination of her inattention and his appearance caused a lull in what was probably meant to be a private conversation, she realized abruptly, and apparently her partner had come to the same conclusion. He cleared his throat and prompted:

"I really hate to tail in on your discussion, but you said something about Furbook? So there's no disaster at home, then?"

He poked Judy's shoulder. She wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was to underscore the necessity that she check her phone more often?

Bonnie Hopps blinked and moved to pick up an amber-colored kit, who had apparently been tugging on her skirt with increasing frequency, "no, everything's fine here. Well, other than your brothers filling the whole 3rd Floor Basement with silly string."

Judy had to laugh, momentarily distracted, "was it Scott or Phillip?"

"Neither," her mother said darkly, "it was the Zachs—Zachary and Zacharias."

She could feel Nick's hiccup of laughter in response to the names, but if he was thinking humorous thoughts he didn't share them.

"I didn't realize that they were old enough to be getting into that kind of mischief yet," Bonnie's most independent daughter remarked fondly.

"Well, you know that they're just following the example of their elder brothers. And sister. _You know_ _who I'm talking about._ Between the lot of them we had plenty of chaos at the 'Z'-Litter's 8th Birthday party," her mother said with some ruefulness. Then she paused a moment, sadness just barely making an appearance, "We could have really used your help that day—you know how the kits listen to you."

It was things like this that made her feel the most guilty. To a rabbit, family was everything. You worked, _as a family,_ to support _the family_. And when crops didn't work out, you scraped together enough food and money to survive until the next one came in. It was an, "All for One, and One For All," mentality, to quote the Mouseketeers. Yet without fail Judy had opted to stay in Zootopia on her weekends and days off, while the rest of her siblings—even the ones that had moved to neighboring towns—made themselves available for family events. She was starting to feel like the black sheep of the family—no offense meant to her school friend, Darla, who even now battled the stereotype.

But there were a lot of them. Events _and_ siblings. Not to mention extended family. She just couldn't hop to her family's beck and call, especially with how exhausted she often found herself.

"I know, Mom. I just…don't have enough vacation time yet to make a visit…worthwhile," when that sounded like a poor excuse, and her mother's disapproving look seemed to echo the sentiment, Judy continued somewhat defensively, "I mean, I wouldn't want to come over only to leave right after, right? And that's a _two-hour_ train ride."

"I understand, Sweetheart. Just remember that no matter how little time you have, it's still quality time to your brothers and sisters. They all look up to you so much," the lingering disappointment abruptly disappeared as her mother refocused on the figure behind Judy, "as for you, Mr. Wilde, I've heard that you have some clout with both Judy _and_ that boss of yours. If there's any way possible, see what you can do about getting my girl home once in a while. You catch my meaning?"

Being directly addressed was a bit of a shock, but it didn't last for long as the fox once again straightened and let out a bark of laughter, saluting the older female, "loud and clear, Ma'am. I'll certainly do my best."

"Call me Bonnie," it was the first time Judy had seen her mother smile so unreservedly at him, "and you're welcome to stop by the farm anytime, as well. Especially if it means that my Judy'll be tagging along," she said with some dryness, "I'll make sure to serve you up whatever seasonal fruit we've got in stock. We Bunnyburrowers like to treat our guests right."

The rabbit cop nearly groaned in horror. Now that the idea had been planted in her partner's mind there was no turning back—sooner or later Nick would finagle her into visiting the Burrow. She was absolutely doomed, feeling it in the way that Nick leaned forward eagerly, his claws resting on the back of her chair. Judy nearly jerked in shock when she felt his bottom jaw brush along the crown of her head, against the fur, then wondered about the reaction—it wasn't as though this was the first time he'd rested his head on hers.

Shoving the feeling away, and rushing to speak before he could comment on the invitation, she said, "sure. Visit home. Got it, Mom. I'll make sure to do that," _Or her partner would, at the very least,_ "now, I've really got to get back to work now, sooo…can I call you tonight? Or tomorrow? _Night?_ "

"Sure sweetheart. And then we can talk about…whatever you need to talk about. Later, of course. I'm always available. You can even call me on your lunchbreak," although there was a speculative look in her amethyst eyes, just a shade off of Judy's own violet. She said the next part almost absently as she seemed to gaze at the space above her daughter, "that is, if you need to."

"Um, okay Mom. Thanks," she murmured, a puzzled smile still on her face.

Whatever this Furbook post involved, it must be a real foot-thumper given the way her mother was acting.

After the call ended she continued holding the phone, staring at the blank screen for what seemed like an hour, but that didn't stop her partner from leaping back to his desk in an instant, shaking his computer mouse until the screen popped into wakefulness, and pulled up a new tab in Firefox.

"Your password has something to do with your niece, right?" he prompted, tongue sticking out to the side of his mouth.

"Ye— _no!_ Nick, what are you _doing?_ " she huffed in instant irritation. She slapped a paw down hard on her desk.

He frequently had that effect on her.

Nicholas P. Wilde's open-mawed grin revealed several rows of shiny pointed teeth, "I'm just answering the question that we both are thinking, Officer Fluff. You don't _actually think_ that I'm going to leave this hanging after all that thinly-veiled emphasis there, do you?

The fox's tone was dryer than the Sahara District, "and you might as well check those texts of yours. Just think of it this way—it's like Christmas! You never know what you're going to get."

Her little bunny mouth was open to disagree, to argue, and maybe to scold her partner for his lack of professionalism. But it closed with a carrot-cutting snap.

"More like April Fools Day," she muttered.

Across from her, the rabbit's partner just grinned and kept typing.

He was incorrigible. But he did have a point. Her mother's comments and the messages were similarly timed, and she could imagine them relating. Additionally, Bonnie had mentioned getting her information from Sarah and Judy just couldn't see her friend bypassing their friendship in order to speak to Mrs. Hopps first. No, it was more likely that she had tried to get in contact with the cop first before going to Bonnie when Judy failed to respond.

But why? Her mind first went to their mutual friend, Felicia, and she wondered with a spike of fear if the bold bunny had gotten in an accident. The thought led to action, and pushing away her natural reluctance she clicked on her messages folder.

Sarah. As expected. But the questions were cryptic.

' _Um…did you see furbook…?'_

Then, a couple of minutes later:

' _Can I call you soon?'_

Judy stared at her phone blankly. What in the world had caused her to send texts like this? It sounded like Sarah had seen something shocking. Dodging a glance at her companion, who had frozen while peering into his screen, mouth slightly open and brows furrowed, she opted to shoot her friend a reply.

' _What happened? (Sorry I didn't reply sooner. I'm at work.)'_

A second possibility popped into her mind, subconscious putting together what her mother had said—plus _how_ she had said it, as though Judy was going to fall to pieces any second—and what had happened the last time she and Sarah had spent time together. Her friend had been just about as upset as she'd been! So there was always a possibility…

 _No. No way. It couldn't be… It was too soon. Especially as they had only just…_

Then again, she'd seen it happen faster before, especially when she'd been growing up. Besides, while the situation was "new" to her, that didn't make it new for them.

Across from her the bunny heard rather than saw a flicker of movement. Her long ears turned first and then eyes followed to Nick, his form having morphed into a stony monolith, pointed ears swooping backwards and expression flat and emotionless. As though he'd just found out that his pawpsicle was made with yellow snow.

"I think," the fox cleared his voice, attempting 'casual' and landing smack dab in, 'I'm afraid it's cancer.' He tried again, arms folded, "I think I may have an idea why your mother called. That jerk from a while back, his name isn't 'Steven' by chance?"

"Yes," she practically leaped off her chair with a powerful bound, "why do you ask?"

He sighed a moment. Pinched the bridge between his eyes where his snout drew outward. Then turned the mid-sized screen her direction, "he's got something to announce to the world."

There, at the top of her screen, sprang the name 'Steven Harrison.' He'd posted a new profile image. And a cover image, despite the fact that he seldom used Furbook, much less posted photographs.

Both showed him in a nice shirt, sleeves rolled up, and wearing a dark grey vest. Dress pants. Which was actually shocking, given that he was a bunny who hated dressing formally and took pride in only owning two ties, both silver.

He was kneeling in front of another bunny, a slim female with wavy, light brown fur, dressed in a pretty black blouse and a white patterned skirt covered in stenciled flowers. The simplicity of their outfits caused them to match, a spot of black and white and grey in a background of springtime park greenery. They stood in the center of a stone walkway, a small pond glistening to their left as the photographer caught the moment from across the water.

The moment was perfect, the lighting casting a warmth on their faces.

It was a lovely still shot.

It was also an engagement, caught in the act.

And there were three other photos like it. First of the taller rabbit standing, his long grey ears looming high over her as they drew together. Plus a close-up of their clasped paws, fur mingling as a silver band glittered in the afternoon light.

Her first thought was, **"oh."**

Then Judy's heart seemed to lurch in her chest. The chambers which had been calmly pumping blood mere moments ago clogged, froze, then withered. She had to remind herself to breathe.

She wondered if this was what a heart-attack felt like, but then recognized the symptoms from just two months prior.

No. Not a heart attack, just a heartbreak. Another one.

It would only be temporary. She would spend a week listening to Kelly Cluckson breakup songs on full-blast, screaming them in the shower just like she did last time, and then life would move on as usual. With some careful application of chocolate and ice cream.

But somehow her heartbreak cure-all didn't seem quite so sure this time around. Maybe because, well…

Was it petty of her that she'd thought their relationship wouldn't last, when she'd first found out about it? She'd taken on sort of a, "well, forget you," kind of mentality during Round One, because the incongruity of the pair just hadn't made any sense at the time. So a part of her (she wasn't sure if it had been the jealous part of her or the logical part of her at this point) had assumed that eventually they would fall apart instead of falling together.

Not that she was aiming for a second chance at Steven. He'd already indicated his lack of interest quite forcibly.

But maybe she had gauged the relationship wrongly? Leaving her, essentially, petty and single at the age of twenty-five. Pretty much an old maid by Bunnyburrow standards.

While two of her school mates— _another_ set of them—were getting married.

"Carrots. You all right?"

His words broke her free of the frozen state she was in, and Judy took in several deep gulps of stale ZPD air. Looking over, Nick's green eyes were concerned.

Judy forced a smile, patting his arm, "I'm fine. I'm just…surprised, is all."

She was clenching her phone in her grip, she realized. Forcing the digits to loosen, she briefly thought about replying but ultimately decided to wait until later, when she was calmer.

He gave the paw a pointed look, to which she shrugged and turned back to her desk.

"Oh, I'll be fine. I don't feel like murdering him with a fork or anything," she stated wryly. Then, with a darker bite, "much. I'll get back to you in the morning."

After she had a whole day to think things through.

Her fox looked at her intently for a few minutes more before nodding, solemnly, "well if you do, make sure to remind me to grab a spoon."

It took a couple of seconds for the thought to sink in. Then she huffed a laugh, "why a spoon? Do you want to scoop his eyeballs out or something?"

"Nothing so gruesome, my vengeful Killer Rabbit," the bland, supportive practicality of his voice merely underscored his point, "I just think that we'll need something to bury him with."

Only one or two seconds went by before she was laughing, his friendly support of her, well, 'future endeavors', voiced if a tad unrealistic. The image of Nick digging three feet deep into the ground using only a spoon also became permanently etched into her brain as she hoisted herself up into her chair.

Although the eyeball-scooping wasn't a bad plan, either.

Time crawled as Judy tried to focus on what they had been working on before they'd been interrupted—what was it, an hour ago?—but couldn't manage more than a blank stare at the folders in front of her, paws twitching slightly.

This went by for several minutes, the hurt hollow of her ribcage inching into the foreground until all she could focus on was the bone-deep ache in her middle. But the warm emotional weight of someone's eyes falling, and staying, on her caused the bunny cop to sigh and turn, meeting her partner's gaze with a sad smile, "look, Nick, I'll be okay."

"You're sure?" he asked, paw lifted as though trying to reach out to her. When he realized what he'd been doing he dropped it to his lap.

She tried for a light-hearted shrug, "what's the worst that can happen? I listen to breakup songs for a week and eat all your OtterPops?"

He huffed slightly at her attempt at light-heartedness.

"Hey, look at it this way—maybe I'll even write a book about my experiences. 'The Many Romantic Failings of Judy Hopps!'"

She ran her paws through the air as through reading a movie title.

Nick just laughed and shook his head, starting back into tale of the Pied Piper.

"Alright, just let me read over it before you send it to the printers."

"You got it, Partner," she said cheerily. While ignoring the heavy weight pressing down on her.

It was going to be a long couple of days.

~/~/~

AN: A shout-out to my sister for helping edit this. ;) I love your face, Little Sis.

Honestly, I had a hard time writing this chapter. I think that it's because it was from Judy's POV. :| Nick is fun to play with because I'm exercising my "sarcastic muscle." It just felt like it needed to be a "Judy Chapter," as a lot of what happens is from her perspective, and involves Nick more as a spectator.

The events in this chapter not only happened, but a lot of the dialogue is in its original format (especially 'Sarah's texts). Only it occurred in real life **just one month** after the events in the previous chapter. Which came just a couple of weeks after I told him I liked him. Don't worry, though, I didn't take things as hard in Act 2 as Judy did. I was surprised, then thought that the situation was ironic enough to base a fanfic off of it, at "Sarah's" encouragement. ;-)

My (lack of) love life has great entertainment value, let me tell you.

Judy's dilemma with her family is based on my roommate's family. They have 12 kids total, one is married with a kid, and there are two more that are engaged. So that's a lot of people, and a lot of events. You have to pick and choose which are most important to attend, otherwise you'll get burned out.

The ringtone is of course _Bohemian Rhapsody_ , by Queen. ^^

Computer Mouses, Firefox, and OtterPops were all left alone, due to already being animals. ;) Mouseketeers (Hidden Mickey!) and Kelly Cluckson were fun additions, even though there doesn't seem to be any poultry living in Zootopia (maybe all the birds moved to the town that movie "Sing" is supposed to be set in?).

I've decided that Judy, for being an optimistic, 'people'-oriented person, has a rather gory sense of humor. (Given her wonderful acting abilities.) ^^ So I tried to include some of that here.


	3. Postage Due

**Forks**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: "Oh, I'll be fine. I don't feel like murdering him with a fork or anything. Much. I'll get back to you in the morning." Judy receives another grim reminder that she's single. Nick tries his best to help, in his own way. Based on a true story.

Disclaimer: Pffft, as if I own anything Disney-related. I don't even own the puns I use as currency!

This chapter's theme music: _Return to Sender_ _, by Elvis Presley_

~/~/~

 **Chapter 3: Postage Due  
**

" _Until you get comfortable with being alone, you'll never know if you're choosing someone out of love or loneliness."_

-Mandy Hale

 ** _Previously:_**

"Hey, look at it this way—maybe I'll even write a book about my experiences. 'The Many Romantic Failings of Judy Hopps!'"

 ** _One Month Later…_**

She'd spent over a week listening to Kelly Cluckson's angsty breakup songs the first time the other rabbit had broken her heart (or was it the second?). However, on this occasion she reported to only have felt sad the first day or two, delving into some fun Sara Beareilles tunes for a brief time, before moving on with her life.

His conclusion was that maybe she hadn't been as emotionally attached to him as she'd thought she was. Or at least, the intensity of emotion was wearing off. For some reason this relieved Nick, although he couldn't quite pinpoint why. Probably just that it was so out of character with her usual buoyant, determined personality. The emotions just hung wrong on her, the way an ill-fitting suit does.

But the thought of this _'Steven'_ moving on with his life _had_ to have some effect on her, and he was just waiting for the other horseshoe to drop.

So when it came he could honestly say that he was expecting it. Just not in the way it appeared.

"What does it mean when you keep getting the same fortune cookies?" Judy asked as she stared down past the half-eaten remnants of her conquered lunch to where the innocent slip of paper lay.

"That you've been eating too much Chinese food," said the fox as he wolfed down his own portion of tofu-and-broccoli with fried rice, "what did you get?"

"Here, take a look."

He reached across the table to accept the paper, squinting as he attempted to read the tiny print.

"Need glasses, Old Man?" Judy teased between bites of her own sweet and sour asparagus.

The fox's response was bland, "I'll have you know that I'm a full twelve years younger than Chief Bogo, Carrots."

"And eight years older than I am," she observed impudently.

He merely threw a balled-up napkin at her, then went again for the fortune, "okay, so it says, 'If you're looking for love, it's under your muzzle.' Learn Chinese: 'Author'- 'zuŏzhĕ'. Lucky Numbers are 3-4-16."

Nick paused a moment before asking, semi-rhetorically, "seriously? And you've gotten this one three times?"

Her shrug and ironic eye roll were eloquent, "yeah, it's like the universe is trying to tell me something."

"Or trying to warn you to stay far, _far_ away," he muttered, shoveling another bite of food into his mouth.

They were the only ones present, which made it doubly easier for the two of them to comfortably talk, a rare occurrence in the bustling ZPD break room. So it was with absolute comfort that the two partners spread themselves out along the monstrously large folding table and chairs, Nick's feet taking up a seat all their own as papers, crumpled trash, and half-empty cartons were scattered across the surface nearest to them.

In the background a dented coffee pot dripped, filling the room with the scent of burnt toast to match the scorch marks from the last time someone forgot to take the tin foil off before shoving their lunch in the microwave.

The refrigerator, humming loudly in the corner, smelled distinctly of fish.

It was easy enough to pick up these details with a nose like his, and when Nick's ears failed to hear a reply he looked over in concern.

She was silently picking at the almonds in her dish.

 _Hoo, boy._

"It was a joke."

"I know, Nick."

"I just meant…"

 _Okay, he didn't know what he meant._ The words had just popped out of his mouth, without thought or tact. Just in sarcastic wariness of the concept in general. Especially with the hand she'd been dealt lately.

Not that she'd been talking to _him_ about it.

Which he wasn't miffed about at all, no siree. Sure, they talked about a lot of things, but that didn't mean that she HAD to talk to him about her relationships…or lack thereof.

Judy smiled brightly at him anyway, "it's okay, Nick. I brought up the topic. Well, I guess I was hoping that bringing it up would lead it into the question of whether or not I should 'move on' sooo…there we go. I guess that's your opinion on the matter? That I should steer clear of all relationships?"

 _Move on? Huh?_

Okay, there it was, the beginning of the fallout.

He'd expected more tears. Rage, he could also handle. Sarcasm, bitterness—he was all well-versed in those. But wanting to jump back into the pool, feet-first? No. No, he hadn't anticipated that. But there it was, the thought that had probably been percolating in the back of her mind for days, knowing Judy.

But the question was _'why'?_ Why in the world would she be moving so quickly from 'this sucks and I want to murder the guy with forks,' to, 'I think that I should start dating more'? And also, why did the concept of her entering the dating scene fill him with…something like irritation? A kind of itch that ran beneath his fur, making him want to hit something with his newly acquired Academy training manual.

"Could you run that by me again?"

"I just thought that it was about time. To start dating. Again, I mean," the bunny shrugged, manipulating the chopsticks in her paw with relative expertise. You would have never guessed that she'd been introduced to the things just a couple of months prior, in an evening that he had well-documented on his phone.

"Based on…the advice of a fortune cookie?" was what came out of his mouth.

She huffed at him, leaning far enough to fall off her seat as she mock-punched his shoulder, "at least it listens better than you do!"

 _It's awfully hard to listen when nothing's being said_ , he thought, but opted not to voice that, for safety reasons.

"Anyway," the rabbit continued matter-of-factly, "I really _do_ think that it's time to move on. I'm not getting any younger—."

If she was old then he must be _ancient._

"—and twelve of my siblings are already married. Plus three more are engaged! And I'm not even _dating_ anyone at this point," she said these words as though she ought to be tarred and feathered for such a crime. And who knew, maybe that was a thing in rural Bunnyburrow?

Which was also probably where such archaic thoughts were coming from. He had to nip this in the bud, and fast.

Was it bad that she wasn't dating anyone? No. Kind of lonely sometimes, _sure_. He could testify of that from personal experience, but it was by no means _bad_. So it was true that he'd maybe taken the long way around when it came to the subject, making him not exactly the best person to give advise.

But she shouldn't have to feel like something was 'wrong' with her just because she didn't have a boyfriend (and what were they, fifteen years old?). Her 'relationship status' did not define her, especially where it was something she couldn't control. Judy would find someone eventually (even though _that_ concept made something in his stomach lurch a little), and if she threw herself back into things too quickly then the poor sucker would just end up becoming the rebound guy…and Judy would feel doubly bad about the whole situation.

Sighing internally, he mentally cracked his knuckles and dusted off the small box of 'empathy' he saved for special occasions.

"Look, Carrots— _Judy_ —," and didn't _that_ get her attention, "the guy was a jerk," when she opened her mouth to interrupt he held up one digit to halt her, "and I know that you don't like me labeling, so let's just say that he… _acted_ like a jerk. But just because he went off and, very foolishly if you ask me, opted to marry someone who _isn't_ the most amazing bunny in the world—i.e. you, in case if you aren't following—doesn't mean that something is wrong with _you_. It means that there is something wrong with _him_."

When she still didn't seem to believe him, Nick sighed and placed his paw on hers. Just for a second, before moving it to her shoulder, as the former position had felt…weird for some reason. Almost awkward.

"Right now the two of them are rushing to the altar like stampeding elephants. But how fast they're going does not mean that you need to up your speed."

Her comment was still somewhat tart as she frowned, "yeah, but nothing is going to happen if I don't at least get out there and _try._ "

"Just…pace yourself, is all I am saying," he interrupted carefully, "alright, Sweetheart? Take your time. Wait for the right moment. Then it'll happen when it, you know, needs to happen."

Nick paused, before a knowing smirk blossomed on his muzzle, "and then, knowing you, you'll take him on the wildest hustle of his life."

The look on her face slowly shifted, the pensiveness turning thoughtful before something finally morphed her stiff shoulders from coat-hanger quality to a little more bunny-esque; rounded and soft. When she began smiling at him, the twitching of her little pink nose settling into a normal speed and pattern, Nick felt confident enough to grin back and pat the spot his paw had landed on, "you're still young, trust me. You've got time."

Her response was pert, but also singularly Judy, settling some of the worry doing jumping jacks in his gut, "what would I do without my wise old fox friend to guide me through the perils of life?"

He smirked, "probably go off and marry the first buck that shows up—."

The clatter of hooves on tile broke the moment like a bull in a china shop.

(Not that that was any indication that bulls shouldn't run china shops. There was an elderly bull in the rainforest district who carried a number of fine pieces that Nick had never been allowed to touch, much less inspect for purposes of replication.)

Nick slid to the other side of his oversized chair with a cough as Judy similarly pretended to be fascinated with the remnant of her noodles. All this "professionalism" descended as one of the new interns, a white-tailed deer with his horns just coming in, puttered about making himself a cup of barley tea. Just as he was about to leave the unthinkable happened.

"Oh! Wow. You…you're her, aren't you?"

The rabbit cop suddenly found herself on the receiving end of an inquisitive set of flaring nostrils. She blinked.

"Excuse me?"

The tall mammal towered above her, his nervousness obvious but clearly his eagerness was winning out, "I'm just…I'm just really honored. To meet the real Officer Judy Hopps, I mean."

Nick and the bunny in question exchanged a look, as if asking if there was a fake Judy Hopps running around somewhere. She certainly had enough siblings for it.

"I've _really_ heard a lot about you," he continued, not noticing the discomfort coming off of her in waves.

After the publicity of the Nighthowler Case, Judy had a love-hate relationship with the limelight. Well, more hate than love. Even after working to make amends there were still certain reporting groups that took joy in asking questions about this or that pro/anti speciest policy, never mind that 99% percent of the time the work they were doing was unrelated. She had unfortunately become the target of supermarket rags, the kind of magazines that liked provoking controversy for the sake of circulation.

The result, in an ironic twist of fate, was that Nick had taken to answering for the both of them when possible, but there was only so much he could do when she was easily the most visible member of the Force.

"Delgato just _really_ appreciates your work."

Oh. Okay. So he wasn't fanning after her because of the news. That was unexpected. She relaxed a touch, but only just.

Delgato, a lion on the force who believed that one's worth was proven through actions rather than words (he only grudgingly worked with Rhinowitz, due to the former having failed them in a Precinct 1 vs. Precinct 3 soccer game), had the utmost respect for Judy. Even to the point of defending her once or twice against fellow officers.

The only trouble being that he liked to tell outlandish stories to the gullible. So nothing negative would be coming from that direction, but what _did_ result was…well…

"Is it true that you took on a Mob Boss single-handedly, with nothing but a box of dental floss?"

"Um, not reall—."

"I heard that you solved a string of murders in Sahara Square by following a trail of mummified remains!"

"Okay, that's _definitely_ not-!"

"What about a group of drag racers that actually were jewel thieves! I heard that you busted them!"

"She actually _did_ do that," her partner interrupted with some smugness, leaning one arm against the table.

His bunny partner didn't comment, feeling overwhelmed. But that didn't seem to phase her unexpected fan, his long face bowed low over her form and horn stubs caging her in a vague echo of the holding cell they locked criminals in.

"Can I get your number?"

The grin fell off of Nick's face.

 _What?_

Judy was similarly frozen, jaw slack and violet eyes wide. Her ears couldn't seem to pick a position, flipping from vertical, to aimed backwards, then down flat on a constant rotation. And her nose _had_ to be working double time with how fast it was twitching.

As he watched his best friend scramble for something to say his own words came back in a flash of horrified realization.

"… _probably go off and marry the first buck that shows up—."_

He quashed the thought.

 _No._ It didn't work like that. Okay, yeah, sure, Danny _was_ a buck. Just not a _rabbit_ buck. So it was ridiculous for her to even…to even think about such a thing.

 _Right?_

The midsized deer leaned lowly to catch her reply, seemingly not noticing her stunned expression.

"Uh! Um…well," she began thumping her leg beneath the table, an act that was increasing in speed and sound until he could see the back of her chair shaking with the force of it. The young rookie probably thought it was a sign of her thinking things through, with how he continued gazing hopefully at her.

"Sure? I am free on Saturdays…sometimes."

~/~/~

"But why did you say yes?!"

"Because he _asked!_ " was her shouted answer that evening, wearing a hole into the cheap (non-skunk-butt) rug Nick had furnished their apartment with, "why do you keep asking me that?!"

The fox spluttered for a response, almost sending his "100% genuine" frozen edamame casserole meal flying, "b-because it just doesn't make _sense!_ "

"Look," she huffed irritably, "I made a promise when I was young that if a buck got up the courage to _actually_ ask me out then he deserved at least one chance—unless, of course, he's a creeper."

"Nice ultimatum there, Sweetheart, but when you made that 'deal' I'm pretty sure that wasn't the kind of 'buck' you had in mind," was her best friend's exasperated commentary on the whole situation.

"So?" she said, sharply, "what does it matter? There are so many males in this generation that don't even have the guts to ask a girl out, much less do so in person. If anything, that _earns_ him his chance right there."

Canceling out whether or not she even had interest in the guy? He wondered. It seemed to be the case, as she was about ready to take one for the time, whether she liked it or not. The worst part of all was that she'd jumped into her plan—the same plan he'd tried to discourage her from following—with ease.

"He's a fanboy!" he burst out, losing his temper, "how are you even sure that he's interested in you, specifically?"

She was rapidly getting more and more frustrated, he could tell. Especially now, as she slammed her eyelids down, paws trying to rip her own ears off. Realizing that maybe he'd gone too far, Nick discreetly started backing toward his bedroom and the safety of a locked door.

"Well, it's better than nothing!"

~/~/~

Nick watched warily over the top of his kidney bean chili as Judy paced, once more. Within the open-air kitchen he could observe from behind the safety of a long bar counter (their answer to not owning a table between the two of them) and a full rack of recently washed dishes.

She'd been putting it off for several days now, and it was starting to wear on the both of them. The buck—Danny Dearhart, according to the office rumor mill—had phoned and left a message (during working hours? He _knew_ that she was working), asking if she was free, but she had yet to call back to finalize the details of their date.

Rendezvous. Activity. _Thing._

Which, despite her defensiveness, she was about as excited for as a swimmer was to do sumo wrestling.

Now, with her notepad and pen in hand, in case if she needed them, he watched as she 'psyched' herself up to press the little green 'call' button…

The back and forth marching kept up for several more minutes before, with a heavy sigh, the little grey mammal forced herself to take a place on the window seat she'd claimed as her own (as if there'd been a competition. He couldn't fit in that tiny space). Then, aiming her face skyward as though pleading for help from a higher power, she muttered a few choice words before forcing a smile onto her face—and voice—and tapped the dreaded button.

The cheer in the bunny rabbit's voice was obviously fake—to him—but it seemed to go over the head of their resident rookie.

"Hi, is this Danny? Hi, it's Judy. Um, Hopps, yes. Judy Hopps. Anyway, I'm sorry that I missed your call. I was kind of… _in the middle of a high-speed police chase at the time_. With llamas, yes. I'm guessing that you saw the news story, then? I see," she said, very patiently as it seemed like the young mammal began speaking excitedly, her nose twitching, "anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I am free on Friday for…a date?"

The hesitance in her voice caught his attention, his pointed ears pricking with interest.

"I mean," she laughed tightly, lip caught in her overlarge teeth, "sorry, I get kind of awkward on the phone."

She really was adorable. Downright adorable. But he knew that the moment he told her that she'd kick him in the solar plexus, and suddenly all that adorable, fluffy rabbity-ness would be replaced with the hardened visage of a seasoned cop.

He said nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just continued gazing at his adorable, and so very, very cute, roommate.

"Um. So, what were your thoughts? Did you want to…oh. OH. I see. 'Because it would be…'? So. _Is_ this a date? Ah. Um. Well, okay, I guess. But…alright. I don't have access to a vehicle outside of work, so you'll have to—so _they'll_ have to give me a lift. Right. Understood. See you tomorrow!" the bunny ended with false cheerfulness.

By the time she stabbed at the 'end call' button Nick was outright confused, stirring his dinner on automatic. Just watching her ear acrobatics had exhausted him, much less the conflicting emotions racing across her face.

He finally dared to break the silence, "that sounded…interesting."

"It was," Judy said shortly with a smile that was more like a twitching grimace, "aaaand I can't believe that I agreed to it."

Walking from the window to the couch the bunny groaned as she tossed her iCarrot on the table, then proceeded to vault face-first into the cushions. All it took was a couple of minutes of unpressured silence before she broke.

"I take it all back. All of it."

A pause, then.

"He wants to 'go on an adventure.' Him, me _and his friends_. They apparently do it _all the time._ He thought that there would be 'less pressure, this way.'"

Nick, quite honestly, didn't know what to say. Except to wonder at the stupidity of the rising generation. Had the deer really gotten up the courage to ask for her number, leave a voice mail, and then…ask her to _'hang out'?_

"And you agreed to it?"

"I agreed to it. I'm absolutely crazy for doing it, but I totally agreed."

"Well. Good luck."

"Thanks."

~/~/~

The slamming of the door interrupted the ineffective reading he'd been doing, a sci-fi novel about hairless bipedal aliens in his paw. He'd been trying to get into it for an hour, but it was just too unrealistic to really keep his attention.

That, and he was waiting for his roommate to get home. She'd left like a soldier preparing for battle, wearing a marginally more-formal-than-usual blouse and dark blue jeans. Nothing fancy, no earrings, and no makeup. Just a grim expression fixed on her face and a well-worn bag over one shoulder.

Now, as she marched back through the door in a direct line toward her closet-like room he had to ask, despite the quite obvious 'I don't want to talk to you' vibe coming off of her, "how was your date?"

"It wasn't."

Thus ended The Date That Wasn't.

After that whenever Danny came around Judy of course did the mature, adult thing and hid from him every chance she got. But Nick really couldn't blame her. He supposed that next time she'd be a little more wary about dating just anyone that asked.

~/~/~

AN: Sorry if this one is less than stellar. It is actually supposed to include more scenes than this (yes, the interaction with 'Danny' did actually happen to me, more or less), but the chapter got so long that I am going to break it into two chapters (that's what took me so long). And I just really wanted to get this out before Sunday, as I felt like it was important to finish it this week.

Other than that, I wanted to take a moment and talk about something important.

Recently there have been several horrible shootings going on in the United States. Although this is a humor fic, I'm pretty sad right now, to be honest.

A lot of lives have been lost lately and I just wanted to say that every human being is a beloved child of God. I know that we don't usually bring up religion on this website, but this is what I truly believe and what I learned while I was serving a mission in Japan.

That every single person in this world is of worth. "Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God." Doctrine and Covenants Chapter 18, Verse 10.

This is why movies like Zootopia matter. Because they make us realize that despite our differences, we are all connected. We are still one, as a community and a people.

Keep writing. Keep praying (or meditating, etc.). Keep hoping for a better day. And wherever you can, keep being an example to others that while there is hate out there in the world, it does not start with you.

Thank you, everyone.


	4. Shopping the Marriage Mart

**Forks**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: "Oh, I'll be fine. I don't feel like murdering him with a fork or anything. Much. I'll get back to you in the morning." Judy receives another grim reminder that she's single. Nick tries his best to help, in his own way. Based on a true story.

Disclaimer: Pffft, as if I own anything Disney-related. I don't even own the puns I use as currency!

This chapter's theme music: _Shop Around_ _, by_ Captain and Tennille (A cover of Smokey Robinson's version, with a more feminine bent.)

~/~/~

 **Chapter 4: Shopping the Marriage Mart  
**

" _I had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it."_

-Groucho Marx

 ** _Previously:_**

He supposed that next time she'd be a little more wary about dating just anyone that asked.

~/~/~

He'd finally gotten a detailed account of events of The Date that Wasn't, after much bothering and bribery.

The sum of all things being that, after being picked up by Danny and his two pals they had gone for a nature walk in one of Zootopia's many parks. This one had a grassy, prairie feel to it, a mammal-made stream crossed by several small bridges. Which would have been fine, especially for a first date, however…

"It was like we were being chaperoned the entire time!" she'd railed in exasperation at the stove, frying battered asparagus and cauliflower as he mixed together a ranch dip at the bar's counter, "they just kept _leering_ at us, too. Eavesdropping and gaping, maws open like we were some kind a _freak show_. Which if, like Danny said, we were just 'hanging out' as friends, was entirely unnecessary."

The fact that his two companions were a zebra and brown bear combo didn't even phase her. No, it was that the latter had opted to wear an obscene Pinup T-shirt for the trip, even while knowing that this was a first-time outing for the two of them.

Also, apparently the rookie hadn't realized their difference in age. (Not to mention the height difference—as in, they literally went about "not mentioning" it. Because it wasn't necessary to point out the obvious.)

"He's nineteen, Nick! _Nineteen!_ And here I am, twenty-five. I mean, I know of plenty of people who are six years apart, but he still has the word _'teen'_ attached to his age. That makes him the same age as over a dozen of my brothers."

"Given the sheer number of siblings you have, the chance of that happening is pretty high there, Fluff," Nick pointed out a tad dryly, absently stirring the powder-and-sour cream combo he had in his paws.

"Oh, shut up."

Not that there was anything _really_ wrong with their age difference, she had admitted once again, as though finally remembering the company she was keeping. Just that he was _still living at home_ and had borrowed his _mother's van_ for the trip. It made her feel like she was robbing the cradle. If he'd been in his mid-twenties and she in her thirties, then that would have been a different matter entirely, she had eventually concluded. Then they would both be adults, at the very least.

Nick hid his smile and let her rant it out, satisfied that with this fiasco taken care of, things would be smooth sailing from here on out regarding Judy's dating life.

No more interruptions. No more split-second decision making when it came to his partner's love life. And more importantly, no more seeing her heart broken, the rabbit's expression fallen. She would regain her pep soon enough and things would settled down as they returned to their old dynamic—just him and Judy and no one else trying to barge in on their snarky duo.

Yep. Nothing but smooth sailing.

~/~/~

So why she was so willing to give the ZPD's resident flirt, Officer Alex Gopherman, her number was a complete _mystery_ to him.

It had come the middle of a random Tuesday, several officers herding around the front desk to snag a donut of choice (Bob Trumpet, in an upbeat mood post-Migration, had dropped off a good three dozen—with another box solely dedicated to their resident dispatch officer, who was all smiles this morning), when Judy found herself being chatted up by a mammal of her own height.

For all that Alex was a gopher, he sure looked like a _weasel_ to him.

Nick, currently being cornered by a steely-eyed meerkat from Records Receiving with a bone to pick, had seen the conversation from a telescopic distance.

It was comparable to lemmings jumping off of park benches; you're not sure whether to laugh or cry.

Judy had straightened in surprise at being addressed, then tilted her head in confusion, followed by stunned gaping. All the while Gopherman looked nothing but cool and collected, a vague(ly idiotic) smile on his face as he simply held his custard cream. _(Who just_ holds _a donut when they could be eating it? It was a definite sign that she should steer clear of him.)_

Just as Nick found a way to escape—shoving a second donut in the permanently open mouth of the lovely Melany Meecham and then skittering off—the transaction had already happened, phones out and numbers exchanged.

He even arrived just in time to hear the mammal refer to himself as a 'Date-a-Holic' to her face, which earned him a disgusted look and crossed arms from the fox.

Still, she'd taken the challenge, and now the idiot was sending text after text to his partner during the workday. Nick's ears twitched as the device chimed, frown becoming darker with each interruption. Midday he'd even found his claws gouging the surface of his well-worn desk. _That_ reaction surprised him enough that he forced himself to reevaluate and then bank in his emotions. At least enough to roll some of the tension out of his shoulders.

 _Where had_ that _reaction come from?_ He wondered.

But he shouldn't have worried.

"Ugh!" she growled, throwing one paw into the air as the other threw down her iCarrot onto a stack of invoices, "he keeps texting 'hi!' As if I have nothing more important to do than respond to inane, one-word messages."

Eventually she opted not to respond at all. And several days later Gopherman had yet to make a personal appearance. Maybe it had something to do with Judy being more practical than most females, thereby not falling for her generation's version of a bland conversation starter, Nick guessed?

Or it could be that he's wasn't as much of a Date-a-Holic as he'd claimed.

"You know that I don't like pointless texting—I'd much rather have a muzzle-to-muzzle conversation any day," the bunny had finally explained, "besides, it's not my fault that he texted himself into a corner."

Her shrug was eloquent.

"You have pointless texting conversations with me all the time," he pointed out rather neutrally, eyes half-lidded and expression bland.

His claws, the previous perpetrators, were loosely clasped together over his chest as he leaned his office chair as far back as it could go.

"Yeah, but you're different," she popped her head back into the doorway she'd just exited through, " _you're_ actually funny."

~/~/~

Maybe it was just his nature as a fox to have a protective instinct, Nick guessed. Like his mother always hovering over him as a kit, he abruptly found himself keeping a constant eye on his partner.

Which was odd, given their situations: him, a fox, playing protector to Judy, a bunny.

(The even more ironic part being that she could knock him out in an instant, if given the chance. It had happened once during his first month as a Rookie, and Benjamin Clawhouser was the sole bearer of his secret…)

But instinct told him that what he was doing was _right_ ; that she was kin, regardless of the long ears and the short muzzle.

So it was his job to guard her…even from herself, it seemed.

There was just something about the bunny that attracted bad luck to her—at least when it came to dating and first impressions. Or any interaction with the opposite gender at all, really, that went beyond kicking them in the face until their muzzles were bloody.

She was either a force to be reckoned with…or someone that needed to be shielded from the world at large, he'd decided somewhere along the way.

Of course, he definitely believed all that jazz about lucky rabbit's feet—when on the beat. A couple of their coworkers had even made a joke or two about switching partners with him for that very same reason. But when it came to her personal life it was a whole different matter.

So maybe his recent…"reactions," as Nick had begun thinking of them, were just the result of wanting to avoid witnessing his favorite bunny rabbit get her heart broken again?

They'd been coming back from seeing a new movie (Zoolander 2) on a Saturday evening after spending their entire day doing Summer Cleaning (because they'd been too busy in the Spring).

He was in his usual wear—Hawaiian shirt and slacks—while Judy had opted for simple jeans and a T-shirt. Off-duty, paws in pockets, their fur lit by the halo of arching streetlights. They could have been mistaken for a couple on a date, for how relaxed the two of them were.

A red convertible roared past, flames spray-painted along the side, visible despite the darkness. First there came a roar, then a yell sent their way. He could feel the air shift as Judy jumped at his side, paw immediately falling to where her taser usually sat on her hip.

"Nice tail, bunny girl!"

His fingers clenched into a fist, unbidden. Even the prick of claws against his palms couldn't straighten the taut nerves…

"Next time give a _real_ Predator a call!" came another shout.

…tail whipping in complete rage.

The shouts were paired with three other sets of hooting laughter.

Nick's next urge was to bark harshly, an instinct he fought down with determination, fur bristling as he took a step closer to his best friend. But the fox forgot in that moment that she _could_ hold her own.

Indignant, Judy straightened with a snap. Her ears were upright and sharp as knives, feet planted and ready to leap into the fray.

"At least _I've_ found someone! Good luck with a face like _that!_ "

Forcing himself to take deep breaths past the rage burning in his blood, Nick watched the teenage leopards go by in what was probably a stolen car—better yet, one of their rich parents' vehicles, ripe for a ticket and a broken fender—paws clenched in his pockets as his eyebrows furrowed, night-vision clear enough to just barely catch the plate.

"Nice one, Carrots."

Her eyes rolled expressively, disgust clear as arms folded across her chest, " _catcallers_."

Okay, so maybe the fox really didn't _need_ to protect her, despite his urge to do so.

But darned if he wasn't going to look up that license plate later.

He did, after all, have a friend in the DMV. And Flash owed both of them one.

It wasn't until he was dressing for bed that he remembered Judy's comeback.

~/~/~

Okay, so the rage was unexpected.

Sure, he watched out for his friends. He scratched their backs, they scratched his. It was a symbiotic relationship that continued even now, despite the fact that he'd switched sides, so to speak (aided by the sheer number of "I Owe You's" he'd collected over the years…on actual paper. "Always do your paperwork. Leave no loopholes," that was his mantra. The crap he wrote for Bogo was just for kicks and giggles).

But this was different.

This was…

Strange.

He'd found himself scowling at barristas that simply _talked_ to Judy for too long, never mind that it was just to ask if she'd like more whipped cream on her bunny-sized "tall" strawberries-and-cream frappucino. And that was nothing compared to the outright _glare_ (complete with growl!) he'd lasered at the canine who had wolf-whistled her way.

Their coworker's combined boredom and natural inclination toward romantic drama didn't help, either:

True, they were just as invested in her love life as he was.

But his way of showing interest was to shove her in a closet in the dungeon of a fifty-floor castle while hissing at onlookers _a la Dracula_. Their colleagues' approach was slightly different.

"You have SO much in common!" said Hippolyta from the ZPD's morgue.

(It was the one area of their workplace that Nick hadn't even known _existed_ until a month in on the job. Even then the idea that, down beneath them, the precinct had the workings for a freezer that even _Mr. Big_ wouldn't sniff his nose at gave him the heebeegeebees.)

Thankfully, the mortician was a lot warmer than her surroundings.

And her morbid sense of humor seemed to mesh perfectly with Judy's sometimes cheerfully-dark POV.

The fox had been set to befriend the Hippo, himself. After all, it was about time that his partner expanded her group of friends beyond himself, Sarah, and a gargantuan number of relations.

Then came A.J. O'Hara.

"Beyond both of us being Lagomorphs, you mean?" the bunny cop remarked with some dryness, paws on hips and a single eyebrow raised.

A.J. O'Hara from Finance had all the features of a perfect mate: long ears, powerful hind-quarters. He was even a pleasing mottled color, with darker patches on his ears and back. The fact that he was a Hare could be overlooked for the sake of at least belonging to the same taxonomic family, Leporidae, which was a great improvement over her last non-date.

The knowledge that they had no overlapping interests didn't even seem to register with Judy's new friend. Plus she had never really talked to him _long enough_ to find out.

But it seemed that his partner was willing to give it a go, _yet again._

"He's the sweetest thing. And you guys are SO similar," Hippolyta said while towering from above, the edges of her white coat whacking Judy's arm every time she got a little too excited, "he really believes in getting the job done _right_ , and he's immaculate with details. Plus he's got a _great_ sense of humor."

"Alright, I guess…" Judy had agreed, reluctantly.

Nick had opted to watch the interaction from afar. True, Judy had actually suggested it, followed by a "wink wink, nudge nudge" comment about hoping that someone would swoop in and 'save her' with some 'pressing news' about their current case, which was all 'on a need-to-know basis.'

The fox had gone along with her escape plan simply because it was bad for business to punch the hare's lights out when it seemed that he was just as much of a victim as Judy was.

Bogo would pull him into his office, for one, and he didn't feel up to explaining _why_ it was imperative that he do such a thing to an innocent office worker...

And it would set the ZPD tongues wagging; the gossipy tails would start telling tales.

So as the rabbit spoke with her fellow long-eared companion just outside the hallway leading to O'Hara's office, her partner leaned against Clawhouser's desk.

Casually. Maturely. Ears at attention, tail twitching, untouched Snarlbucks gripped in his paw. Fighting the urge to apply his claws to Styrofoam, as he knew what a mess _that_ would be. He had his Ray-Bans on as he pretended to attend to the Cheetah's words.

One of the few things keeping him in check was that the interaction between Judy and O'Hara looked about as awkward as it probably felt.

"Nick, why don't _you_ just ask her out?" Clawhouser asked.

The question, coming completely out of the blue in the midst of discussing Giselle's exercise regime, shocked the fox out of his laser-like focus. He slipped on the perfectly dry floor, his lounging appearance disturbed by the ungraceful jerk his arm made (thank heavens the coffee had a lid on it!). The other officer was leaning on his desk, one elbow propping his chin up while the other was occupied with absentmindedly stuffing said face with donuts.

"What?"

"You 'n Hopps. On a date."

"Me?" he scoffed, "Pshaw. Where did you get _that_ idea from? I mean, _me_ , and Officer Fluff? Ha ha ha…ha. _Yeah_. Anyway, I can see _that_ going over well. Especially with the media circus that's still tailing us."

Ben paused mid-donut at Nick's reaction and was blinking very slowly, brows raised. As though the fox's reaction had been more than he'd expected. He opened his mouth to speak, paused to frown, then finally went on.

"Well, _no_. I didn't mean that you two should, like, _date-_ date or anything. Just that…"

A single eyebrow rose over his sunglasses. Watching that brow Ben took a moment to choose his words carefully.

"It seems that…all of her dating experiences end up…" he trailed off for lack of a tactful description. Then waved a paw at the tableau before them, as though it explained everything. Currently Judy was giving the guy a painful smile. He, in turn, had both his paws fisted in trouser pockets, a closed-off move if there ever was one. Even from far away Nick could see the pocket protector in his ZPD-issue navy-blue polo.

"Blowing up in her face like a scene from _The_ _Fast and the Furriest_?" Nick prompted. It seemed the most apt description.

The cheetah was hesitant to agree, yet finally nodded, "well… _yeah_. So my idea is that if _you_ take her out on a date she would at least be able to compare what she's experienced against what _should_ happen, you know, and weed out the guys that aren't worth it?"

When that failed to get any response save the Ray-ban-wearing fox taking a sip of his coffee, hiding his reaction behind an implacable veneer, Ben sighed sadly and shook his head, "it just seems like such a shame that a romantic like Judy keeps trying again and again, yet has nothing to show for all of it. And maybe a date with someone she trusts, even if it were only a friendly…ish date, might help her realize that not all guys are like that? You know?"

 _Romantic?_ Were they talking about the same rabbit? He couldn't be referring to tough, go-getting Officer Hopps, could he? Who could single-handedly take down a rhino or stop a runaway train. True, he _had_ come home from a poker night once or twice to find _Pride and Purrejudice_ or even _North and Sloth_ in the DVD player—and he'd even watched the latter with her once, all the way through (even at 3X speed it was several hours of his life that he could _never get back_ ).

But those flukes were far outweighed by the number of CSI shows she watched, and mystery novels she devoured. When together, their films of choice were more along the lines of _Star Wolves_ and similar action-adventur-y flicks. But the fox guessed that in a way she _could_ be considered a romantic—her willingness to throw herself back into the dating arena again and again was evidence número uno.

Pondering all this, he took another sip of his Snarlbucks, leaning lazily against the reception counter, "she had a boyfriend in high school, Ben. It's not as though Carrots has never had…I dunno, a 'good date.'"

"Yeah, but it didn't last long—she cut things off when he got to frisky," the cheetah said solemnly, "she refers to him as 'octopus paws.' So even _that_ didn't end well. Honestly, Nick, you've got to _save her from herself_. I can't keep watching these fiascos of hers…it's like those Gazelle fanvideos, where they try to impress her by doing stupid stunts. As if she watches any of those Ewetube videos…"

But the fox's attention was elsewhere, "when'd you learn about _that?_ "

It was yet _another_ detail of her life that he'd never been privy to, he felt with a stab of irritation. He _should_ have known about it, the fox felt, so how was it that Ben knew more about her Ex than _he_ did?

Well, not that he had a _right_ to know about it. He wasn't her father or (one of many) brothers, or even…a significant _something_. But they were Best Friends (capital letters, even. That was major stuff), and roommates at that. So. They talked about everything. Or should have talked about everything, by this point.

Yet it seemed that she'd held back regarding 'Octopus Paws.'

It made him the teeniest bit…something. Like a mixture of hurt—the kind you feel when you stub your toe, hissing and hopping around on one foot until the pain lets off—topped by a heavy dollop of annoyance. The emotion welling in Nick was familiar but old, as though it hadn't had a place in him for a long time now—he'd simply become too laid back for it to bother him anymore. But now it sank low in his gut, roiling and acidic and tight—

And a bit like jealousy.

 _No._

 _It couldn't be._

But once the label had been slapped on, there was no denying it.

It was _jealousy_. He was feeling jealous. _Of_ _Benjamin_ _Clawhouser_.

His maw dropped open. Then quickly snapped shut as he remembered where he was.

Nick felt like he had been smacked in the muzzle with a frying pan (who knew?!). He was absolutely, 100% jealous, and it was aimed at Benjamin Clawhouser, no less. Mild-mannered, friendliest-cop-on-the-planet Benjamin Clawhouser.

And this wasn't the first time he'd felt it, either. The same ugly emotion came up the last time he'd realized that Judy was holding back, detail-wise, about her love life (or lack thereof). Back when the matter of Steven first came up. As though _he_ should be her one and only go-to mammal for advice and friendship.

Then there was the barrista, the wolf, those teen punks, Alex Gopherman, even Danny and now A.J.

Honestly, what was _wrong_ with him? Did he really think that the only person she could interact with was him and only him?

First he was getting all protective of her, and now he was getting _jealous?_ He was never usually this petty. Well, anymore, anyway. It wasn't as though Judy was only allowed one friend. After all, _he_ had other friends, too. Sure, Judy was the one he spent the most time with, and lately he'd found her company to be more appealing than that of a vast majority of his old friends… But he couldn't expect for her to solely focus on him; it went both ways! _So why was he so incredibly upset?_

Grimacing, Nick tried to swallow away the sour taste in his mouth. The feline didn't seem to notice anything was wrong.

"I dunno. A while back, I guess. I think…maybe it was when you two came in with that trio of vixens a while back."

Wait, what?

Oh. He was answering Nick's previous question…

Forcing himself to focus on the conversation at hand, Nick frowned, "Ben, I'm not going to remember one group of females after months of—."

"Nick, they weren't just females, they were true-blue _vixens!_ Well, not blue, but…you know what I mean?"

"Foxes?" that halted him, as something tugged at his memory.

The larger animal nodded with a sympathetic smile, "one of them was trying to nip at you, do you remember?"

Nip?

"Oh."

Yeah. He remembered.

They'd been called in to handle a Drunk and Disorderly arrest. The three ladies, if they could be called that, had just become of age and had decided to celebrate with a night out on the town. The result involved all three females' parents coming to the precinct to spring them loose. But not before the Red and her elegant Arctic friend had sniffed out that not only was he a male of their species, but he was an _eligible_ male of their species in his prime.

Never mind that he and his partner had just been the ones to arrest them.

By the time they'd arrived at the ZPD he'd hardly needed Judy's help to lead them into the building—he couldn't seem to _un-attach_ himself! So Nick had stood there, waiting for another officer to begin processing the women (swatting paws and tails periodically), while all his bunny partner did was laugh.

And apparently share details of her own life and experiences with the dispatcher.

The big cat waved a paw and shrugged, "yeah, Judy was kind of acting weird, then. Uncomfortable? Seeing them apparently reminded her of all the bad luck she'd had. It seems that all the guys she ends up liking either see her as…" he dropped his voice, low and quiet, "an adorable, cute thing, you know? Which see _is_ , but more like…like a little sister? Or they try to take liberties, like the vixens," Ben continued in a regular octave, "it sounds like it's just been one bad experience after another for her. You should at least help her have _one_ good time, I think? As _friends?_ "

There was a strangely eager tone in there that the ex-conman noticed immediately, but didn't have time to interpret.

"Yeah, sure," he responded in complete neutrality, throwing back the last bit of his drink, "wild times indeed."

When his coworker heaved a heavy sigh Nick did, however, pull his glasses down and nod, though, "I'll think about it, Buddy."

Earning himself a beaming smile.

Turning back to the object of their affections the fox was witness to an awkward handshake, and then the moment was gone; A.J. walked back to his office door and snapped it shut. Judy, if anything, looked relieved, shrugging and making expressive faces at her partner.

It was his turn to smile.

~/~/~

This didn't count, he'd decided.

Sure, Ben's suggestion had been bouncing around in his mind for a couple weeks now. And there _had_ been a couple of moments when Nick had thought about…say…asking Judy to go with him to a Movie In The Park ( _Captain Armadillo: Winter Saola_ ). Or grabbing coffee at the corner shop. But these, and other, activities were things that they did all the time, as friends. So in his book they just didn't count.

It wasn't really fair to give Judy a half-baked date, anyway. She deserved something nicer than that.

Not that he was actually going to…you know…ask her out on a real date. The fox had to talk to her about the concept first, so that she knew…that it was being done as friends-ish. He just hadn't built up enough courage to do so yet.

Although why the thought of just _talking_ to his partner made him nervous he didn't understand at all.

In any case, this didn't count either. Especially as _she_ had been the one to ask.

Although he hadn't expected for her to wear a dress.

Summer was rolling into the city, the cement and tar steaming with the rise in temperature. As a natural consequence Judy had suggested that they take a break from the heat to go to the park. Unlike the rest of Zootopia, with its mammal-made environments, Savanna Central was largely influenced by the natural weather of the surrounding environment. Which meant that if Bunnyburrow and other towns were feeling the heat, so was District One.

Taking advantage of this, ice cream vendors and food trucks had taken to parking near their favorite patch of grass. As they'd just finished their shift and the sun was going down later than usual with the onset of summer, he'd taken her up on the unexpected offer.

After a day of melting alive in the tight-fitting (although rather flattering, if he did say so himself) uniform the ZPD provided he finally got to escape into a comfortable set of slacks and a lavender short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt (for some reason he'd been more partial to the color lately).

Judy, in contrast, had changed into a sundress. A sunshine-yellow sundress. With a large-brimmed sunhat. She was so adorable that he had to fight to keep himself from _pinching her cheeks._

Or finding excuses to bump into her. To touch her shoulder. To let his tail brush against her feet, nearly tripping her up.

Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice his distraction, the rabbit's focus also placed elsewhere. The grey-furred female had the firm, determined look of a cop on the case, completely at odds with her casual appearance.

"Nick. Can I talk to you about something?"

He knew that tone of voice.

It was steely and determined. And the kind of direct line of questioning that led to an interrogation in a dark room with a bare, swinging lightbulb.

Additionally, she hadn't even waited until they were far down the path before starting in on it.

Judy took the plunge, "why have you been acting weird lately?"

That caused him to do a double-take, "weird? What are you talking about?"

"It just seems…like every time I go on a date, or, I dunno, even talk with a guy, that you start to act all…strange. I'm almost worried about telling you when someone asks me out, 'cause you'll just…be weird again," she admitted hesitantly, nibbling her bottom lip.

 _Worried?_ Shocked, he could only blink at her for a few seconds, halting in his tracks, "you…? Really now, Hoppalong. Why in the _world_ …okay, _look_. I am _not_ acting 'weird,'" he said, withdrawing his hands from his pockets to make air quotes.

Her lavender eyes were determined, "yes. Yes you are. You're even being weird now, too."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I am not."

"Are."

"Not."

Huffing in irritation, she was the bigger mammal (so to speak) and opted to actually _act_ like an adult, "Nick, just admit it. You don't like it when I go out on dates."

Okay, that was a bit of a stretch, and a blanket statement if there ever was one. How could she even…?

Okay, so _itwastrue_ , but he definitely wasn't going to _admit_ to it. It was like a one-way trip toward revealing…something. And that 'something' would sound a lot like he was jealous. Which, well, he was. But not THAT kind of jealous. It would just be hard to explain what _kind_ of jealousy he was feeling…to differentiate between the _types_ of jealousy.

But it wasn't even only jealousy. Or jealousy wasn't the main reason behind his actions. It was…well, _protection_. Nick was just being protective—he merely wanted to keep her from getting hurt again. _That_ was what it boiled down to.

Right.

"Look, I just don't want to see my favorite Carrot get hurt again," he said in a rare moment of sentimental half-honesty.

Only half because there was no way in _all seven layers_ of Bugga Burger's cheese dip that he was going to tell her the second half. As it was, the former part packed enough of a punch that her line of questioning was stopped in its tracks; Judy's expression of shock at even _this_ tidbit of information made him cough and look away, loosening his tie.

He felt like he'd just committed a hustle he hadn't intended on following through with.

"Besides, why are you even giving those guys the time of day? They're…creeps, losers… _kids_ , even."

"Nick, they _are_ not. Stop exaggerating," she reprimanded him mildly, still slightly stunned by his previous revelation.

"Okay, fine. _Fine_. But still, you could definitely do better. You…" he paused, searching for the right word. Unnoticed, the two of them had slowed their walk to a crawl, the pattern of sunlight through leaves dusting across her fur. And when the light managed to glance off her eyes, the color in them seemed to sing, "you deserve better."

"I don't deserve anything," she countered, "I'm just a regular, ol' bunny. One among three hundred, in a town of _eighty million_ _in Bunnyburrow alone_. I'm not anything special, Nick."

"Yes, yes you are. You are _The_ Officer Judy Hopps, number one officer who solved the case of the Night Howlers!" he said, using his hands to spell out the words as though throwing up invisible theater titles in lights.

"And I'm also the same officer that created city-wide panic," she corrected with some exasperation, "the fact of the matter is that I'm no better or worse than any of those guys who ask me out."

"Yeah, but you could at least put a filter up. You know, 'no males who don't bathe.'"

"They all bathe, Nick."

"It was just an example."

"Nick," she stopped to face him and he did the same. As they looked out at one another, her gaze searching over his face as though trying to find the right words, he couldn't help but see her silhouetted by the busy street behind her. And wasn't that just perfect—she, the farm girl, facing the park behind him while he, city boy, was given a view of her framed by honking horns and angry pedestrians, flashing lights and towering high-rises.

But, somehow, the bunny still seemed to fit. Like she belonged here, in her sundress, surrounded by the life that existed in Zootopia.

And if Zootopia represented _him_ , then maybe she fit with...

"I said yes to them…because they _asked_."

The thought was cut off before it could fully form as he was brought to an abrupt halt, "no, no, no. You've already used that reasoning before. That _can't_ be the only requirement involved."

The woman's shrug seemed to be self-explanatory, "it takes a lot of bravery to do a hard, scary thing. It took a lot of bravery for me to tell Steven that I liked him, way back when. And I don't want to put anyone through what I went through—you know, being shut down like that, so immediately—soooo…I said yes because they had courage enough to do it. That's why."

"Judy," he took her shoulders in his paws, never mind that they were suddenly very, very close to one another in proximity. Leaving him helpless to notice the way her lashes brushed against her cheeks, and how incredibly fast her nose was starting to twitch, "what if they're creepers…or serial killers? They could be people that…steal your fur and make a _shrine_ out of it. Or there are coin purses made from rabbit fur—I've seen them, they exist!"

His partner brushed him away, rolling her eyes, "c'mon, Nick. Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm being serious, here!"

Taking in a deep breath, she kicked out her feet from beneath her skirt. Her glance at her lower limbs made him realize that she wasn't wearing her usual braces. Not having the same paw-pads that he did, Judy was more sensitive to the surface of the street, including the heat he felt through his own paws. Somehow the absence made her look incredibly vulnerable.

"I know that you've worked with…mob bosses and petty criminals and who knows what else," he shot her a 'thanks a lot' look, which was ignored, "so your concern is valid. But…I think that everyone, deep down, is just looking for the same thing: to be loved. So, sure, people make mistakes and things don't work out. But I can't fault anyone for just _trying_ to find happiness. I might be on the receiving end, but imagine how _they_ feel on their side when things don't work out."

He snorted slightly, shaking his head and burying both paws in deep pockets as they walked.

"It's like the Frog Purrrincess. You've got to kiss a lot of frogs until you find the right one," she continued, on a slightly brighter, more optimistic note.

"I don't think that story works that way," it was enough to toss his response down an even more cynical path, "besides, you don't actually believe that, do you? It's a _fairytail_. Just like romance."

"Hey, fairytails have to come from somewhere," she said with a smile, nudging him with her elbow. As short as she was the push landed somewhere around his hip.

Nick continued staring at the ground, brows furrowed in irritation. But with her gumdrop-shaped face entering his peripheral with a hopeful smile tugging those cheeks of hers…well, he couldn't stay bitter for long.

She waved her paw in the air, "we can't expect that things are going to work out the first time we try something. We have to keep working at it, and keep trying. Which is why…I keep saying yes. Every time."

There was a pause, then she went on a little too quickly for her words to be nonchalant, "I'd even give _you_ the same chance I gave him. If you asked, that is."

The comment halted him in his tracks.

Unnoticed, she kept walking, only looking back when Judy realized he was no longer beside her. He coughed and jumped forward, although the air between them now felt awkward and a little tense.

"Could you run that by me again, Carrots?"

"I'd say yes. If you asked," she said quickly, although he couldn't help noticing that she was rubbing her opposite arm rather determinedly, "I mean, you'd have to get up enough _guts_ to ask me, though," the bunny added, making it into both a joke and a challenge.

Part of him—the formerly jealous part, he couldn't help but notice—bizarrely perked up at that. Ears upright, tail stilling, hunter-based instincts gaining a laser-like focus on her softly-furred face. He tried smacking that aspect of his personality down, right between the ears, but that didn't keep it down.

However, instincts aside, he wasn't sure how to react.

His thoughts ran in circles within the confines of his mind, nose over tail.

And there, in the middle of it all, was Clawhouser's voice.

" _Nick, why don't you just ask her out?"_

He'd been debating it, back and forth, for several weeks now. So, here and now, he had the chance to…to do something.

But he couldn't do it.

"And ruin the perfection that is our friendship? Psh! I could never do something like that, Carrots. Besides, you know my luck with relationships—the plunge isn't worth the ice."

Something uncertain flickered in her expression, but it was gone before he could fully register what it meant. His best friend masked it with a quick and sarcastic smile.

"Well. Even if you never mammal-up enough to ask me _or anyone else_ out on a date—you should give _yourself_ just as much of a chance as I am willing to give to other guys—I _am_ going to find out why you hate it when _I_ go on dates," she shot him a teasing look, but he wasn't fooled—he could see the dogged determination brewing beneath those innocent lavender eyes of hers, "the real reason, not just that you're worried about my safety."

 _Wonderful._ Simultaneously fighting the desire to roll his eyes while also trying to bring her back to the moment at hand, Nick motioned toward the ice cream truck ahead of them, "shall we?"

But the rabbit was bent over at the waist, examining the bare pad of her foot.

"Gimme a second," she muttered as she scrunched up her face, "I've got a thorn in my foot. Can you order a lemon ice for me?"

"Will do, Carrots," he said with a salute, knowing that their conversation wasn't truly over, despite his wish that it be so.

While he paid for an overpriced chocolate-chocolate chip cone and a lemon ice pop for the two of them, forking over a wad of his hard-earned cash, his thoughts were on the conversation, trying to figure things out.

Yeah, sure, he'd been called out. Honestly, Nick shouldn't have been surprised—looking back on things he guessed that his 'weirdness' was pretty obvious. But he didn't know what he would do if she realized that it was actually connected to his feelings of, well, jealousy. He wasn't entirely sure if he'd dodged her, but then right after that…

She'd declared her life outlook and basically told him to ask her out. Well, not in so many words, but…that, mixed with Ben's recent comments, were swirling around his brain.

Nick understood the reasoning behind Ben's comments—he really did. He was just looking out for their mutual friend. But Judy's…?

Did she… _want_ him to ask her out? Was that what was going on? Otherwise, why would she have phrased it that way?

" _I'd even give_ you _the same chance I gave him. If you asked, that is."_

How was he even supposed to respond to that? Especially in the middle of his…confusion and strange jealous inclinations. Honestly, he wasn't even sure what he was thinking and feeling right now, much less what she was trying to hint at. Unless she wasn't trying to hint at anything? Maybe his partner was just making light of the situation and teasing him? Then again, what if she…wasn't?

The truth of it was that up until now he'd thought that he was past all the confusion of…women and dating and complicated relationships. He'd honestly categorized himself as too old and too tired to put any effort into it at all, especially given all the tail he'd chased—and failed to catch—as a young pup. The fact that most of the vixens he'd known growing up were already married off and in the family way kind of put the last nail in that coffin.

Additionally, what few relationships he'd had as a conman had basically been self-inflicted poison. It had gotten to a point where he'd seen the whole thing as a game of Russian Roulette—you never knew if what you were going to get was a blank or a bullet. He'd already been with enough bullets, and Judy was anything but a blank.

Yet…

He _had_ promised Clawhouser. Even if he wasn't sure about the rabbit's true intent, he could still broach the topic of them going on a "Friend Date." But that might lead to more…could he even handle something like that? Unless he was overthinking it…

The former conman was so conflicted in his thoughts that the truck worker, a raccoon wearing too much eyeshadow, was forced to pull the money from fingers stiff with rigor mortis. She deposited his change in the front pocket of his shirt.

Nick hardly noticed, his mind caught elsewhere.

After all, what she was trying to hint at aside, did _he_ … _want_ to date Judy? Like, _actually_ date her? It was true that he was jealous…and protective…and they were best friends…

But the word 'date' still left a sour taste in his mouth, as though this statement was still, ever-so-slightly, off. Dating was an activity he honestly held in disdain, fawned over by youngsters who didn't know any better. So many people thought that their sorrows and troubles could be fixed just by finding 'The One.' That 'Happily Ever After' was the immediate end result, so long as they just kept trying.

He could tell that Hollywood crap from a mile away, though. It was all just a ploy to keep mammals in the endless loop of false hopes. No, dating was the death of romance. All it had ever given him was heartbreak and hangups.

But if he didn't want to date her, then what _did_ he want?

Unbidden, the thought of the two of them curled up on their ratty couch came to him. It was a cozy enough image, made possible by a slew of memories showing when this same scene had actually happened. He could practically smell the clean lavender-and-clover scent of her body wash, her chest rising and falling against his. But where they'd once chummed around, his current dream had a proprietary bent to it, furry grey arms wrapped around his neck and Nick's gingery ones loosely draped over a tiny, tiny waist.

He was frozen in his steps, the treats in his hands dripping slightly down to his paws.

This, this was it. He wanted _this_. _For the long-haul_. Yes, he was done with dating—it was a fickle process, full of ups and downs. Maybe the reason why he hated dating so much was that he had never gotten past that point, to something more permanent.

Instead he wanted the next step—a relationship that was _enduring_. He was 33 years old, for heaven's sake, and maybe…at this point all he wanted was just the security of not being alone anymore; of having _one_ special person to come home to at the end of the day. Nick's friendship with Judy was the closest thing to having someone that he could rely on, that he could turn to for comfort. But he wanted more than that, he wanted…

The image came back again, his partner sighing in her sleep as she unconsciously rubbed her cheek against him.

…

Which was not really the answer he was looking for.

 _Well, shoot._

Realizing that he was still holding up the line which had formed behind him, the police officer sighed deeply and turned, sticky paws occupied with melting treats and thoughts filled to the brim with confusion.

He stopped. And stared in confusion.

What…was _that?_

A dark blue SUV.

A LARGE dark blue SUV. Was parked. In front of _his_ …in front of Judy.

And as he continued looking on, unable to compute, the rabbit's own expression of dismay cleared to defensive irritability.

He had left her alone for five minutes!

Just five _lousy_ minutes!

Cursing under his breath, the fox caught the tail end of the conversation as he stomped up, dairy products gumming his fur.

"…oo and me?"

The driver was a middle-aged badger, probably somewhere in his sixties. He had a thick Eastern European accent, a bulky navy-blue suit, and a wedding ring on his claw.

Judy was caught somewhere between 'is this really happening to me again?' and 'okay, this is hilarious.'

"Sir, I think that you, ah, misunderstand why…look, I'm…um. Oh! Nick!" the rabbit jumped gratefully as he made his way to her side. He slid his roommate her semi-frozen treat and, without warning, slung that same paw around her waist and tugged her against his side. Tightly.

Then scowled at the other mammal. His hackles rising slightly.

The badger blinked owlishly at him.

He got the picture.

"Oh, Ay did not reelize she vas _your_ gurl."

Nick could feel the jerk of Judy snickering against him as he spoke, "I think that you are needed elsewhere."

The older mammal muttered something else under his breath, shifted his car into gear, and drove off.

The whole situation, top to bottom, was like watching a train wreck happening. Which, given Nick's rather up-close-and-personal experience with train wrecks, was the most accurate description he'd ever thought in his life.

"Was that…what I think it was?"

Eyes slitted, the fox maintained his glare at the retreating vehicle, as though on guard should it return.

Judy swung her paw around his waist and squeezed, once, then spoke brightly, "well, if you are thinking that he propositioned me, thinking that I was a prostitute, then you'd be right! Gotta love Zootopia, right?"

The small female began walking and he was forced into following her lead as the silence dragged on, caught in a furious tornado of thoughts and emotions.

Culminating in, ultimately, a decision.

The eye of the storm.

"Okay, _that's it_. You know, you're right. You can choose to say yes to every cereal box of a guy you find at the supermarket that asks for a date, but I reserve the right to step in if I see you run into one more loser, creeper or stalker. And in that moment I….will be your boyfriend," Nick finally breathed out in a frustrated growl.

He might not be able to sort out his own feelings quite yet...

 _(Yet.)_

But he could at least save her from herself.

Judy stopped so abruptly that he felt the emptiness like a blast of cold air. Nick whirled around to face a very confused bunny. Her mouth had fallen open, eyebrows raised and ears lifted even higher. And Judy's head was tilted as though she wasn't quite certain who she was talking to.

"Can you…run that by me again?"

"I mean…" he coughed, feeling a strange prickle of heat run up his neck and ears at the look Judy was giving him now… he rubbed at the fur to make it go away, then cleared his throat and stretched his paws, ignoring the flicker of his uncontrollable tail, "you have the right to accept anyone that 'gets up the courage' to ask you out. But I have the right—as your best friend and partner—to veto any choices. Even to the point of pretending to be your boyfriend. As if I was a-a living-fake-wedding ring."

"You want to be my…living. Fake. Wedding ring," she parroted back to him, flatly.

He rushed to explain, "It's an analogy. It's like a decoy. I know a girl who worked at a gas station and she wore one. To fend off unsavory characters."

A gulp of a breath later Judy's expression had turned from shocked to analyzing, arms crossed over her chest as she let him finish. As though wondering whether Nick was once one of those unsavory characters he spoke of.

"The truth is, I would rather have them think that we're dating than for _what just happened_ to happen _again_." He waved after the vehicle, expression pained.

There was an absolute moment of quiet that felt thick and electric and confused as she stared and he stared back, the two friends parallel to one another and caught up in a muddle.

Judy pursed her lips and began speaking, very slowly, "I know that I said I would give you the same chance I would give any guy…"

Oh, yeah. That had definitely happened…

"And, well, as much as I appreciate your willingness to be a martyr for me," she said with some dryness, "I think that you worry too much. I can take care of myself, you know."

Patting his chest fondly, she turned on her heel and walked away, licking her popsicle as the fox was left gaping.

 _Dang it all._

~/~/~

 **AN:** SO! I work for the school system and it was UEA Weekend!

(Utah Education Association. It's basically Fall Break.)

Which means that I HAD THURSDAY and FRIDAY OFF! (And a half day on Wednesday.) So you better believe that I worked on this! ;)

Which…actually leads into the need to apologize.

I haven't updated…since the summer. And it's basically because life kind of exploded in my face. In order to survive I had to get a second job. And while that paid well and gave me extra hours…it also kind of killed my social life, my creative life, and also my sleep cycle. :|

Then, once the school season started back up again I returned to my usual job! Which is awesome! :D But it, as well as my college classes, homework, and church responsibilities, also leave me pretty busy.

Bear with me. –holds up her claws- But thanks for your patience, regardless! :D

And as your present for doing so, I hope that you enjoyed the SUPER-LONG CHAPTER! (Don't get used to it. –shakes finger-)

This was kind of about 80% done for a month and a half, so I do apologize for that. But I do feel like it's better for it. I was able to add descriptions, sarcastic commentary, and catch errors that I had made. So it was worth it. And for however long this ended up being, you should see how much of it ended up on the cutting room floor! D:

Also, I was able to attend the wedding of a certain couple. –raises eyebrows and smiles- More on that later…

;) Stay tuned, folks!

P.S. I love _North and South_. It's long, but brilliant. And it's on Netflix! :D Yay Industrial Revolution! Lots of death! Lots of romantic misunderstandings! Lots of Sloths! XD

P.P.S. All these events totally happened, a lot of them occurring within a couple months after chapter one's events, at that. Especially the scene involving the badger. –winks- And 'octopus paws' exists. That is all I will say.


	5. When the Morning Breaks

**Forks**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: "Oh, I'll be fine. I don't feel like murdering him with a fork or anything. Much. I'll get back to you in the morning." Judy receives another grim reminder that she's single. Nick tries his best to help, in his own way. Based on a true story.

Disclaimer: Pffft, as if I own anything Disney-related. I don't even own the puns I use as currency!

This chapter's theme music: _Ooh Child_ _by_ The Five Stairsteps.

~/~/~

 **Chapter 5: When the Morning Breaks  
**

" _Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city."_

-George Burns

 ** _Previously:_**

"I'd even give you the same chance I gave him. If you asked, that is."

"And ruin the perfection that is our friendship? Psh! I could never do something like that, Carrots. Besides, you know my luck with relationships—the plunge isn't worth the ice."

~/~/~

The clock ticked in her peripheral, a glaringly late number written on its face. Yet Judy still ignored it. Unable to settle down for bed and not knowing why, she scrolled through Furbook on her phone with only half her attention.

Recent fiascos had left her feeling…emotionally drained. So in private moments (when she didn't have Nick around to distract her) the rabbit found herself occupied with mindless time-wasters in an effort to not think about the patheticness that was her life. Well, not her life in general—she had a good job, a loving family, loyal friends, and a city that she adored.

But something was missing and her run-in with awkward romantic entanglements weren't helping any. She hated to admit it, but her mother's advice throughout her life about "all work and no play" might have been right. Bunnies couldn't live on labor alone. They needed companionship, being social creatures.

Nick helped with much of it—heaven knew how badly off she'd be if the bunny cop had kept on trying to survive alone—but there was a certain boundary there. He was brilliant and fun, of course, but there were moments when she wondered if…and maybe wished…

But that didn't matter.

And there were more important things than her desperate need for cuddles, bunny piles, and maybe, just maybe, the urge that came every now and again, telling her to burrow into a certain fox's chest, burying her face in his ruff…

It was probably just a side effect of her recent loneliness, anyway. They were just friends. He had definitely made sure of _that_ when she'd suggested that he ask her out. It had been a test, really, to see if he…well. That didn't matter, anyway. Clearly he wasn't interested in being more than a Decoy Boyfriend. Which was okay with her, even if she still couldn't figure out _why_ he was acting so strangely.

But she would. Eventually.

Pushing the melancholy away, Judy turned back to her numbing task.

Just as she was passing yet _another_ midnight reblog of a Harry Otter post by her cousin, Martha, her eyes caught on a photo. She almost passed by it at first, but something stopped her paw. It was a collage of pictures she'd seen before, on a patterned background designed to look like grass in the wind, edged into a square shape.

A digital wedding invitation. From Them, posted for the general populace.

Sure, it had been several months at this point since she'd found out that they were dating…and Judy had done everything she could to help herself let go of the ache that hit her off and on again.

But that didn't mean that she had to deal with it right now.

She shut off her phone and laid down, in the hopes that sleep would soon come.

~/~/~

"Officer Wilde! It's _so_ good to see you in person!" the words came a second before he found his arms full of grey bunny—and not the usual one, either.

The fox choked off a laugh as he found long, alert ears interrupting his view, his suitcase dropped somewhere to the left in an effort to keep from stumbling.

"Call me Nick, please. If I get to call you Bonnie, then we might as well make a trade. And I'd like to think that by this point we're on a first name basis."

Especially after they'd worked together on nearly a month's worth of planning behind his partner's back.

The matronly rabbit laughed against him, then pulled back to look at him as proudly as his mother ever had. It left him with an odd, foreign feeling in his chest; one he had almost forgotten.

Over her shoulder Judy watched the tableau with hands on hips, smile wry and eyes rolling.

"As thick as thieves," she muttered.

To which her mother couldn't help but grin, "well, how else did you think I was going to get you to visit for the holiday? Certainly not if I left the organization of things to _you_ , Miss Workaholic. No, if I wanted it done right, the best mammal for the job is this tod right here."

To which he could only smile, eyes half-lidded and teeth respectfully hidden. When he'd received an email from Mrs. Bonnie Hopps asking him to help her get her daughter home for the upcoming holiday he'd been puzzled at first. But then the old conman cogs in his head had started whirring and it'd become easy to talk Buffalo Butt Chief Bogo into having a raffle for three pairs of officers to get time off for Truce Day.

As a charity event, it was great publicity for the police department, and the other officers were all-in for giving Judy an opportunity to visit her family—at this point she'd covered a shift or two or even _six_ for nearly every mammal in their department. Therefore it was now her turn.

This way she couldn't volunteer to run patrol for the Truce Parade, switch with anyone to pull an overnight shift, or even offer to cover front desk so that Ben could visit his family (as it was, their yearly tradition was to visit _him_ at the precinct, resulting in a cat-pile of rolling, giggling, running kittens in the lobby, given how proud his entire family was of his appointment to the ZPD).

They'd all been given the chance to enjoy other holidays because of Judy's habit of volunteering her (and often _his_ ) time—Christmas, Easter, or Halloween with the kits, cubs, or calves. It was the rabbit's turn, and while Nick essentially had no reason (and no one with whom) to celebrate anything with anyone, Carrots was a different story.

No, his partner deserved a break, especially after all the stress she'd been under lately, and if he had to manipulate events to do it, weeeeeell…

She would thank him. Eventually. Or at least her family would.

While he, in turn, would be gifted with fruit pies. Just as mischievous Bonnie Hopps had promised in her initial proposal.

It was all worth it, even if he'd had to deal with Bogo's suspicions when he kept pulling both of their names out repeatedly until _finally_ drawing those of the other four winners.

In any case, it had been a helpful distraction the last couple of months as Judy's dating life settled down and they both seemed to silently agree not to talk about…what they'd talked about. Not that Nick could really stop thinking about it entirely, but pulling a large-scale hustle helped his concentration.

"Where is everyone?" his partner asked, breaking into Nick's thoughts as she scanned the area with a frown. Honestly, he would say that the station platform was practically flooded with a sea of rabbit ears in preparation for one of the largest holidays celebrated, those long appendages bobbing up and down and in every height and color. But somehow in all the chaos Judy could tell that the crowd around them didn't contain members of her immediate family.

"Sorry, Bun Bun," her mother said contritely, "we thought it best that all the other kits stay home with your father and help with dinner, what with all the folks coming in. I had a hard enough time as it was finding you. Gratefully, Nick's presence helped a bit with that! Thank you for being so tall, sweetheart."

He chuckled after a half-second start of surprise, sure for a moment that she'd been about to thank him for being a fox, of all things, what with his bright-orange fur, "no problem, Mrs. H. Although I'm not sure if I can claim any credit for that."

"It's Bonnie, remember? Now its best that we be off before anyone else gets the same idea and we get caught in traffic—the old truck can only move so fast, after all."

~/~/~

She had a feeling that there was an ulterior motive to her mother picking them up.

Well, on top of _everything else_. It had been a bit of a shock to realize that her mom and Nick had gone behind her back so that Judy could come home for the three-day-weekend. Sure, she had made the promise a couple of months back to drop by, but things had always gotten in the way. And, well, to be honest, when she'd made that promise Judy had been thinking more _Christmas_ than _Truce Day_. But apparently her mother wanted to expedite the process.

Enough that she was willing to co-plan a _hustle_ with Judy's best friend.

Right after Nick had declared that he'd given all that up, too!

Well, she knew what they said about teaching an old fox new tricks, and in some cases that old fox would teach _you_ those same tricks. Which she couldn't complain much about.

Plus, it was for the 'greater good': she stayed on her mother's good side by actually visiting for once. So staying mad for too long was pretty much impossible, especially with the mental image of Nicholas Wilde and Bonnie Hopps rubbing their paws together and laughing maniacally (while dressed in cheesy burglar outfits, no less) kept running through her head.

Heaven knew that she'd been needing the distraction lately, and it would be nice to talk to her mother about…certain worries in her life.

It had been easy enough to figure out that something was up when their coworkers kept stating how _happy_ they would be to work the Federal holiday. Then the suspicion she'd felt running through her veins blossomed into certainty the minute Chief Bogo drew their names _12 times_ during the Truce Day raffle—when she knew for a fact that she hadn't put her name in even _once_ , despite the donation she'd made for her chosen charity. The snickering of a good third of the other officers present had played a part, too.

So she'd taken the appointment with good grace, facing the Channel 4 news with a tight smile, before stepping on Nick's tail the moment she hopped off of the stool they'd set up. Then she'd headed home to pack.

Her mother's part in all this had come to light the minute she next Muzzletimed her parents. And as they say, the rest was history.

"I'm so glad that you could come and visit along with our Judy," her mother was now declaring, paws on the wheel and foot resting on the raised pedals beneath. Despite the cramped situation of all three of them sitting on the long bench seat—with no seatbelts, no less (the truck had been made long before _that_ law came into being)—Bonnie easily maneuvered around.

Which didn't make it any less awkward for Judy and Nick. A full foot shorter than her partner, the rabbit was up close and personal with Nicks' Hawaiian-shirt-of-the-day. Close enough that she could feel his lungs rise and fall against her side, her ears awkwardly tickling the underside of his chin. In an effort to make the space go a tad further the fox in her life had stretched his arm behind her along the back of the seat.

But that only really seemed to make things worse. So that every time she leaned back the fur at the back of her head created a kind of friction against his forearm. The very instant she'd felt that electric 'zing' course through her Judy found herself lurching forward, heart in her throat. And the only way to avoid it was to sit perfectly upright the entire twenty-minute drive to the Hopps farm, shoulders back, arms stiffly held together as she clasped her paws in her lap.

Despite the almost permanent smile on Nick's face—it had come into being the minute they'd finally left the confines of Zootopia, wonder and awe alternating with interest as they passed fields and farms—his eyebrows lowered slightly in concern.

"You doing okay there, Carrots?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just…you know, excited to see my family!" she responded, chipper. Beside her she almost didn't catch her mother's twitch of a smile, nor her knowing look.

Well, whatever _that_ was about they would definitely be talking about it when they arrived.

The trip home was alternately the swiftest she'd ever had and the longest in her lifetime. But then they were driving up to the Hopps burrow and any thoughts of anxious nerves were set aside as she, upon taking a single step out of the truck, found herself drowning in a pile of bunnies. Most of the rabbits present were those siblings still living with her parents, as those around her age group and up had their own families and homes. But even a couple of her missing brothers and sisters would be driving in for either the big family barbecue that was going tonight or tomorrow's festival.

"Alright, lett-er up," a deeper voice chuckled with humor. Then she was being extricated from the mountain of fur and twitching noses and giggling bodies and tugged into arms that were strong from years of farm work.

He was round and burly and despite the height of his ears, still managed to be a tiny bit shorter than her. But he was her dad and she loved him with all her heart. As those paws gripped around her, his barrel of a chest still rumbling with chuckles, she finally felt all the stress and tension of the past year or so wash out of her, her face burrowing in the space reserved for her in the crook of his neck.

He drew back to beam up at his daughter, cheeks round and eyes soft, "welcome home."

Everything was going to be alright. She just knew it.

"C'mon then, Jude-the-Dude. Let's get you two settled inside," the amber-brown rabbit waved over her partner and they headed in, parting the bunnies as they went.

~/~/~

Bunny life was chaos incarnate, he'd decided.

From the moment they'd driven up to the lavender-colored multi-storied hill-home (with attached tower for Judy's maternal psychotic grandfather), a building which overall still looked entirely too small for a population this size, he'd decided, they had been mobbed left and right by a sea of fuzzy bunnies. Giggling, hopping, tumbling, fighting bunnies.

Now, he was a city fox if there ever was one, and he was accustomed to swift-moving crowds of animals of all shapes and sizes, but this was a whole different experience. For one, they were everywhere. For two, he wasn't accustomed to being the tallest of them all.

It was almost mesmerizing, watching the crowd of kits ebb and flow like the lake surrounding Zootopia. They seemed to move in miniature swarms, divided by height and age-group (the color preferences tended to give each age away). The littlest ones were underfoot while the mid-sized ones sat on stairs or sofa arms or slid down bannisters (much to their mother's displeasure). And then there were the teenagers, who alternated between tripping awkwardly over feet that they hadn't grown into and hanging off to the side, too cool to walk right up and ask openly precocious questions of him.

Questions that their younger siblings didn't mind voicing.

 _Where was he from? Did he have any siblings? Wasn't it lonely to be an only child_ —"gosh, I can't even 'magine it!"— _How old was he? Did he have a favorite food? Had he eaten anyone before? Was he related to Gid_ (whomever that was) _? Had he ever tried to eat_ Judy _before?_

Meanwhile his partner in question was walking several strides in front of him with a parent on either side, her arms around them both and seemingly unfazed that their suitcases had disappeared amongst the herd of children like wayward crowd-surfers.

Just as Nick was starting to really get overwhelmed, the tugging on his tail by a set of two-year olds combined with the sudden dive-bombing into his arms of a kit named Allison ("Hello! I'm Allison! I wanna be a monkey when I grow up!"), Mr. Hopps—Stu?—seemed to register a Disturbance in the Force and remembered to look back.

Then the PapaBunny yelped, finger up as he scolded his progeny away, "Allison, Gregory, and Gavin! You three know better than to—okay, well, Allison at least does. You'll be helping with the cleanup after dinner—I don't want to hear any whining! You know what you did," huffing at the retreating child's back, he swiftly turned to scoop up the latter two, "and as for you fellas, I'm pretty sure that the 'S' kits are on babysitting duty for the 'Three-and-Unders.' Sharon! Sheldon! Scott! Put away those devices of yours and help out Officer Wilde. He's a guest, and you know the way that we're supposed to treat guests."

"Like a pearl on a velvet pillow," they muttered in sulky tandem as two of the three took his tail-stalkers, the rest of their littermates looking on with, 'sucks to be you' expressions on their faces.

"Right you are, now hop along," the buck said cheerily as he personally escorted Nick onward, paw barely holding onto the fox's wrist.

Once the crowds had cleared a bit, the child-like enthusiasm of his kits quelled by the threat of more chores, Stu Hopps cleared his throat and apologized sheepishly, "I sure am sorry about that, Officer Wilde. We just get used to the bunny-herding and bunny-piles, but I reckon it's a little outside your usual experience. Talk about a bad first impression for your first time in the Burrow."

Clearing his throat, Nick laughed a tad uneasily and let go of the death-grip he'd had on his necktie, "call me Nick, Mr. Hopps. After saving my life back there I imagine that you have the right to that."

The older rabbit chuckled, "well, in that case you can call me Stu."

 _Stew? As in…?_

"As in Stewart," he expounded, seeing the fox's expression and wryly translating it, "although you wouldn't be the first to make that connection. My dad had a sure-fire sense of humor and in addition to local naming traditions he liked to throw people for a loop, and we were the end result. Pimona was known as Pie and Cassandra was his little 'Casserole,' for starters. Thank heavens I didn't carry that one on to the next generation, I'm sure."

Children named after food…it was definitely original!

Although he could only imagine how serious mammals would take Judy if she'd walked into the ZPD with a name like Cherries Judilee.

"Huh. Yeah. Probably for the best."

"Anyway, I'll leave you two to have some…alone time before the big BBQ," the words were said oddly, with a strange sort of rush to get the sentence over and done with. Nick looked down at his host in surprise. But Stu's expression hadn't changed, a vague sort of smile still hovering below his twitching nose, "which'll be at seven, mind you, next to the big ol' barn out back. Judy'll show you to the room, but make sure not to lose your way when comin' back. If you're late you'll miss the pie, and 'deserts last' be-darned, that tends to be the first dish to go. I know the promise Bonnie made, so it's no one's fault but yours if you miss out."

The rabbit chuckled quietly as they drew parallel to a strange set of doors that, if Nick didn't know any better, resembled an elevator. A step ahead of them, Judy and her mother were whispering quickly, an exasperated expression on his partner's face.

"Thanks, Stu, I'll bear that in mind."

Then both parents were stepping away, waving as though sending their child off on an airplane. Instinctively Nick followed his grey-furred companion, ducking slightly to dodge the doorframe .

But Stu still had that strange look on his face.

~/~/~

She was going to kill her mother. Or at least…she wasn't going to help with the Hopps Family Farm booth at the festival. Not that her mother needed much help, the baton having been handed off to Judy's younger siblings. But it was the best form of revenge she could think of at the moment.

"We've decided to put you both up in your old room," her mother had said, "on account of the space."

"Whu— _Mom_. There are _five_ guest rooms. I don't mind bunking in my old room, but Nick should at least have a place to sleep where he doesn't have to worry about scraping his ears on the ceiling."

"Well," Bonnie had explained slowly, her hands clasped and eyes thoughtful, "Henrietta's, Iona's, Karen's and Jason's families are going to be coming in either tonight or tomorrow morning. Those rooms are barely big enough as it is for their growing families and we'll have to dig out all the old sleeping bags so that the kits will have a place to lay down."

"Mom, that's only four out of five rooms. And…if you _really_ want him to bunk down in one of the old rooms, then there are plenty of other wings that—."

"There's no point in turning on the heat for more than your place," Bonnie cut her off sharply, "and besides, Merry's been using the last guest room as a workroom for a…a _project_ she's doing outside of work. Her basement apartment is too small, and she needed a place where the kits wouldn't end up touching the fabric with dirty fingers."

The explanation made sense—she vaguely remembered that her sister had graduated from Deerbrooke University and there was something about starting her own business…but Judy had been certain that it'd been nearer her Alma Mater than her home town.

Plus, something about her mother's words wasn't quite adding up.

Didn't Merry own a shop? Why couldn't she house her project there?

"Mom, what is it you and dad say about how we should treat our guests?" she asked pointedly, "I really don't think that—."

"Well, give it a try for one night and if that doesn't work out we can always do some rearranging," her mother interrupted smoothly. Then, with a nonchalant shrug, added, "who knows—maybe your grandfather will be willing to have a roommate for the weekend? His tower room is certainly tall enough for someone of Nick's height."

Grandfather. Nick. The Crazy War Vetran and the Fox. Sharing a bunk.

Abort! _Abort!_ **_Abort!_**

"Ahhh, no. Tha-that's okay, Mom. We'll…well, we'll figure something out, I guess. And, well, the kits have already dropped off our suitcases, so we might as well see if Nick can fit beneath the ceiling height before we decide anything," she hastened to say, images of her grandfather murdering a certain fox in his sleep with a rope made out of neckties going through her head.

Bonnie's smile was innocently sweet, "that sounds like a fine plan, Bun Bun. And it looks like we've arrived," she looked up at the elevator door and patted it slightly before moving away, "don't forget, dinner's later than usual because the kits got permission to stay up and use sparklers. So dinner is at seven o'clock."

"I won't forget," she promised through her teeth, mouth drawn into a painful smile.

Which led to where they were now.

With Judy having to explain the situation to her best friend.

How they were going to be sharing a room. For three nights.

Well, it wasn't as though they would be in the same space, and they were already roommates back at Zootopia. But…their apartment had doors. And walls. While her old room…well…

 _Anyway._

Plus it was just so ratty. She would hate for his impression of her home to be colored by the makeshift hand-me-downs, rough-hewn rooms, and hand-maid quilting.

Well, there was nothing for it. Judy cleared her throat in an attempt to at least start a conversation which might lead to a…plausible explanation for what was going to happen. But Nick, for his part, seemed to be engrossed with the button system of the elevator, muttering to himself.

"Sooo…what're you looking at, Slick Nick?"

~/~/~

He'd totally called it. Even the four floor this house boasted was _way_ too small for a family the size of the Hopps. Nick just hadn't realized how big the building actually _was_. At least it was a decent distraction from Stu's behavior.

What had Judy's father even meant? The fox tried to recall his wording: something about taking their time, or spending their time? But it had been his facial expression that had been strange. As though he'd been holding back on something he wanted to say, maybe?

Whatever it was, the same thing had maybe bitten Bonnie. He hadn't missed the look she'd given the two of them on the drive over. Sly and happy all at the same time. Plus, when he'd suggested that he ride in the bed of the truck with the suitcases she'd been almost frantic.

He'd nearly missed it, what with Judy's proximity arresting his attention. She'd been right there, her million-times-a-minute heartbeat racing against his side and it had taken all of his self-control not to slide his arm down and around her. The brush of fur on fur had been difficult enough as it was…

"Sooo…what're you looking at, Slick Nick?"

Her words broke the frozen standstill, and with a slight jerk he turned away, almost bumping into the bunny in question.

"Say, Carrots. Is this," he cleared his throat at the wobble in his voice, "is this right? So on top of the floors upstairs, there are…"

"Yup," she confirmed, hopping slightly on her heels as though possessing excess energy, "there are seven floors below, with four wings each. Oldest on the top and the youngest at the bottom. Every time Mom gets pregnant Dad, his pals, and whichever handful of my Uncles are in town go and dig a new hole. So while the Does make the babies, the Bucks build the burrows," she explained in its simplicity, hands in pockets.

Nick imagined that the local building inspector was probably kept plenty busy in a farming community like Bunnyburrow. _Busy indeed…_

"Have you seen, _Seventeen Brides for Seventeen Bunnies_?" she continued. He honestly couldn't say that he had, but she beat him to a response, her nervousness continuing.

"Well, there's a scene where the whole community comes together to dig the first few floors of a wedding burrow, but the boys get into a dance-off which becomes a brawl…which makes the burrow collapse. It's like that—sans the cave-in," she explained all in one breath, "community burrow-making is kind of a tradition. But it really strengthens ties, because so much time is spent working together."

"What about for non-bunnies?" he asked, curiously. Say, for foxes? He couldn't really imagine himself settling down in a place like this—it was too slow-paced for him. But if _did_ , well…what kind of welcome could a fox such as himself expect from a town full of rabbits?

Not that he was thinking of anything…long term.

"Well," she thought hard about past experiences, "the building direction is usually not _down_ so much as _up_ for other animals, so rabbits are less of a help than they would be otherwise. But we still do our part. Mixing mortar and hammering beams into place. Working on the foundation, especially—stuff like that."

"And you say that this happens _every year?_ " Nick asked, blinking.

"Once a year, yeah. For each family in the community. Although Mom's stopped having kits recently—Doctor's orders," Judy shrugged.

"So…where are we staying in all this?" he waved a paw at the elevator panel, an addition that had been put in for the sake of her parents' knees nearly a decade ago, "am I going to find myself buried in bunnies in some far-flung boys' dormitory?"

She huffed an awkward laugh, "of course not. And, um, I'm actually glad that you asked. You're…you're staying in my room."

His canine features went slack, eyes wide.

Wait, what? He and Carrots were going to…

Ha. Ha. _No._ Back home with them having separate rooms he could mostly handle whenever his…strange protective/jealous nature came over him, but sharing close quarters for the entire extended holidays? Well, that was one short stop toward a place of self-torture.

Nick released an uneasy smile-and-chuckle combo while unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck, "you wanna run that one by me again, Carrots? For a second there I thought you said we'd be sharing a room."

It was almost like watching Flash react, the way that her eyes slowly widened, her ears lifting with it until they were fully erect. Then the rabbit was coughing out a laugh, reaching around him just enough to press some button on the wall that he wasn't aware of, too caught up in watching her morphing expression.

"Nooo, no, no, no. No," Judy hastened to explain, waving her paws, "I shared a room with my _entire litter_. Does and Bucks, so there's an area…there's a divider… Look, just trust me. It's the same setup as our apartment, okay?"

And it was. More or less.

They spent the rest of the ride in awkward silence, as he pretended to examine the detailing on the simple elevator with its cabbage rose wallpaper and not on how close his partner was standing. It didn't take long, however; as one of the oldest she was barely two floors down, but when they arrived it was to nearly empty wings, the hallways eerily silent, lit by flickering lightbulbs strung in long lines that seemed to go on forever in all four directions of the compass.

Or maybe that was just because they went dim at a certain point, making it hard to see the end of the corridors.

But Judy seemed unfazed by the mood lighting as she escorted him to a door with the letter "J" painted in dark green on front.

Upon entering he found himself able to more fully breathe.

The room was large and round, and what he knew were dirt walls beneath had been packed solid and covered with several layers of cement and plaster, then painted a pale mint green with salmon accents. Dividers made out of sheets and rope had been strung up, cutting the room into deliberate thirds—one for the boys, one for girls, and a clear social area stacked with a ratty couch and a lumpy beanbag chair that may or may not have been filled with worn-out clothes that could no longer be handed down. A ramshackle bookcase was propped against the wall, filled haphazardly with a mix of pulp novels and tattered comic books.

The taller of the two of them, Nick could see above the hung sheets—just barely—spying a series of bunkbeds on either side of the divide, rotating along with the curve of the room. The ceiling was a short foot above his head, just barely missing his ears at their tallest height.

All in all it looked more like a camp dormitory than a bedroom, plastered with posters and roughly two decades' worth of graffiti carved into bedposts and doors. Sure, one side had a distinctly feminine flavor—there were a larger number of boy band posters than ones of sports stars, and the patchwork bedding typically ran in rosy hues—but it still had the "dorm effect."

Definitely not what he'd imagined, but he was okay with this. This…he could work with.

"You'll be sleeping on this side," Judy quickly explained, drawing back the makeshift curtain 'doorway.' As she did so he saw that two of the bunkbeds had been pushed together, several quilts piled high on the top bunk. Many of the other beds had been stripped of their own dressings for the sake of the "guest bed." Thankfully his suitcase had also found its way down here and lay, calmly, on the upper bunk as though it was perfectly normal to do so.

He wasn't sure what Mama Hopps was thinking, but it sure looked like a reenactment of, "The Purrrincess and the Pea."

Especially with the low-clearance between the top bunk and the ceiling; Nick thought that he might be better off just transferring the whole thing to the bottom level.

"And I'll be over here," drawing back her own curtain, he spied a low bunk tucked into the corner, an ancient desk lamp clamped to the headboard and shredded paperback books stuffed in between the slats of the wooden frame above her.

She'd taken advantage of the fact that her bed was closest to the wall and had papered the surrounding area with a ZPD recruitment form, an "Only You Can Prevent Wildfires" Smokey the Bear poster (how had he never noticed that the ranger essentially ran around shirtless as he battled the flames? And that shovel he held didn't cover up much…it was a wonder that Judy had even been shocked by their stint at the Oasis), and an autographed piece of ripped newspaper that seemed to be…

"I didn't know that you were a fan of _Alvin and the Chipmunks_ there, Carrots," he snarked, feeling even more comfortable now that he had something to grasp onto. Teasing, he could do. Teasing was a neutral ground between them, ripe for conversation and interaction.

Her answering flush, visible beneath the fur, gave him a sense of satisfaction.

"I was fourteen," she huffed, slapping her paw down on the crocheted blanket adorning her bed, "and they broke down in Bunnyburrow on their way to Rodentzberg."

He held his paws aloft, "hey, I don't judge."

She threw a pillow at him, "shut up, Nick."

But a couple minutes into the play fight she stilled, rabbit features drawn and tired.

"Look, Nick. I just wanted to say thank you," she murmured, "I mean, I know that my family's crazy, and it's about to get crazier once the town gets wind of your existence, but…"

She bit her lower lip, and something about the vulnerability made his gut clench.

"I really needed this. To just get away from it all. To take a break from all the things that are just…stressing me out, and to spend some time with my family. So, thank you. You really are the best partner any officer could have. And the best friend I could have ever found. I'm glad to have you in my life, you pawpsicle-hustling confox."

Without realizing it the canine found himself bridging the distance between them, paw heavy on her shoulder as he nudged his best friend into a gentle hug, "look, don't sweat it, Carrots. It was all your mom—she's the one who's the mind reader, so she can take all the credit."

"Yeah, but you're the one that made it happen," she murmured against his chest, paws wrapping around him. And if he didn't know any better he'd say that they'd maybe locked around his torso, her fluffy cheek resting flat against his chest.

 _Don'tthinkaboutitdon'tthinkaboutitdon'tthinkaboutit!_

He wasn't sure if the rushing pulse he was feeling was his or hers, but he wasn't going to turn his nose up at something that instinct was telling him to accept. With a full sigh Nicholas Piberius Wilde gave in to momentary weakness and drew his rabbit to him, paw cupping her head and thumb rubbing at the space between her ears.

In the same space he loved to rest his nose on, breathing deeply of her scent.

That Judy didn't seem to mind when he extended the hold was perfectly fine for him, and for the first time he realized that while _he_ had become lost in and amongst the Hopps Horde, his little partner had finally found some peace, the typical tense set of her shoulders disappearing.

But the hug didn't last long enough for any more reflection than that.

Giggles started shaking her form as it rested against him, before she finally said, "just wait until you see the bathing arrangements. I hope you don't mind being dive-bombed by toddlers."

"Wait, what?"

Then his rabbit was leaping away to open the door once more.

"C'mon, Nick, the family barbecue's waiting for us! You don't want to miss out on the food."

He wasn't sure if the loss of her presence was worth it.

But then again…it turned out to be a decent mountain of food.

Corn on the cob, zucchini, tomatoes and squash kabobs all marinated and braised on the grill, pickles, shelled peas straight off the vine, dipped onion rings, fresh cucumber salads, homemade root beer, hand-churned ice cream (provided by a rotation of several smatterings of Judy's siblings), and a decent helping of fried tofu lathered in barbecue sauce for him (should he need an extra boost of protein).

Not to mention pies. So very _many_ pies. Nectarine and plum and pluot and rhubarb. Raspberry tarts alternated with raspberry jam while strawberries could be found fresh with clotted cream or as an orange-mixed marmalade drizzle.

Plus lots of carrots. Carrot purée in the brownies. Carrot shreds in the salad. Carrot sautéed and barbecued by Mr. Hopps himself. Carrot juice, carrot bread, carrot cake, carrot cookies, carrot sliced and diced and dipped in honey after being frozen on a stick (on account of the heat. It was honestly a wonder that they didn't all turn orange). There was even green jello with carrot shreds in it!*

Nick didn't know what to say when presented with a bounty like that. Judy, meanwhile, watched with growing pride, paws on her hips. Behind her the sunset still lingered on the horizon. It was nearing the end of summer, but the season hadn't decided to loosen its grip quite yet. So it would be at least another hour or so before it fell truly dark.

"You've never had homemade food before, have you?"

"Well, my Mom, she…," he dodged a glance down at her, maw gaping, then swung his head back toward the laded table, "yeah. Okay. Maybe I have, but not like _this_. I mean, my mom was a good cook, creating things from scratch and she made do with what we had, but…"

"But we're farmers," she filled in for him. Then, before melancholy memories could settle in, her palm was warm on his arm and she was tugging him forward, "you wanna try some?"

"Carrots, there's never been a more resounding 'Yes' in all my life."

A large portion of the Hopps family milled between the tables and a good two dozen blankets, spread out picnic-style. Bonnie had gone for ease over price with several large stacks of biodegradable disposable plates and silverware made from bamboo, which kits were filling up in an assembly-line style. But the minute he and Judy appeared the matron of the family allowed them, as "guests" to hop the line—much the same as several other young families that seemed to have appeared out of the woodwork.

"Aunt Judy!" a cheerful voice called. His partner turned with pause, catching a kit midair as she bounded toward her.

"Cotton! How is my sweetheart?"

"I'm great!" the child pushed her cheek up against her aunt's in an affectionate rub.

"That's fantastic. Doing well in school?"

"Of _course!_ I wanna be a fireman—that takes a lot of schooling!"

"It really does, doesn't it!" Nick had absolutely no idea where this child had come from, but she was probably the most adorable creature on the planet. Or, at the very least, the combination of the two of them were. The light brown kit and Judy with her grey were face to face, eyes large and avidly focused. But other than the hue change, if he hadn't known any better he would have taken them for mother and daughter. (A thought that caused an unexpected pang in him.)

It was too bad that the word "cute" was entirely off limits, he thought to himself.

"I'm guessing your mom's here, then?" she thought out loud. Then, forcing a smile back on her face, asked, "when'd you guys get in?"

"Right before dinner…daddy got _lost_. _Again_ ," if eye rolls were a language, she would be fluent.

His partner expertly rolled them back, "I still have no idea how he manages that. We are only one of the six major farms in the area, and all the roads are on a grid system. How did he manage to do it this time?"

"Backed into a corn field and couldn't get out," the girl said with some satisfaction.

"That'll be the Petersons' land," she sighed, "well, I'll let your grandpa know and he'll make up for the lost crops. It's a good thing that your dad is a dentist and not a farmer."

Only in that moment did the child seem to see Nick standing there, her eyes going even larger if possible as she became perfectly still. Sensing the change, Judy turned slightly only to hop in happiness and recognition, "oh! Cotton, this is my _best friend_ and my partner at the ZPD. His name is Nick. Nick, this is Cotton, probably my favorite niece in the _whole wide world_."

The child's lips twitched slightly in greeting, but she did no more than wave at him as she gazed up and up and _up_. His own answering, close-mouthed smile was partially sad and resigned, "hey there, kiddo."

"Hello," came the tiniest greeting he'd ever heard. Then the girl was whipping around to face her aunt so fast that she almost whacked herself in the face with her own ears.

"Aunt Judy, can you sit by me?" came the tentative query, the child pleading with wide eyes and dropped ears.

"Well, of course. I mean," she turned back toward her partner with a hopeful smile, "is it okay if I spend a little time with Cotton? I'll catch up with you later, if that's alright?"

He couldn't help the softening of his expression, "Carrots, I don't think I could hold you back if I tried. Go ahead, I'm sure I'll find some way to entertain myself. Besides, this is supposed to be _your_ time with _your_ family—I'm just along for the ride. And I've got to fill up on food, anyway. I wouldn't want those pies to disappear too fast."

She chuckled, "well, you better get a move on, then. See you…partner."

"See you. Have fun with your _girly_ conversation."

He received a punch to the shoulder, "ha. Ha. Whatever you say, Slick."

~/~/~

Spending time with Cotton naturally resulted in Judy finding herself next to her very eldest sibling. Judy could honestly say that she loved _all_ her siblings…and _liked_ a vast majority of them. But the relationship she had with Henrietta was slightly…complicated.

"Did that tall glass of cold water arrive with you?" was the first thing to come out of the cinnamon-colored doe's mouth the very minute her daughter scampered off to play with her other 'aunts and uncles.'

Definitely complicated.

"Ha. Well. He's actually my _partner_ at the ZPD, so yes, yes he did come with me," she replied with a tight smile, "he and Mom apparently conspired to get me here, so he got pies as part of the deal."

She waved a paw in the direction of where her best friend sat, plate full to the brim as he found the lawn chair he was resting in abruptly surrounded by children. Despite the fact that being near her sister put her on edge Judy couldn't help the smile that lifted her lips when Nick found himself unable to finish a single bite, finding himself bombarded by questions.

"That's the long and short of it. Basically."

"Well, as far as males go he's a good choice."

"Yeeees. He _is_ a good partner."

She didn't know what it was about Henrietta that rubbed against her fur. Several years her senior, Etta had been the de facto "In Charge" rabbit when Mom was away—resulting in what could be termed an already "sassy" personality becoming even sassier. It had gotten worse as they'd grown older simply due to their contrasting personalities: Henrietta was the girly-girl while Judy had always been the Tomboy. Her sister's ultimate goal had always been to get married and start a family of her own, while young Judy had been jet-set on becoming an officer from a young age.

Neither one was bad, it was just Etta's way of looking down on her choices and struggles that made Judy grind her teeth.

" _Mmm, hmm_. _Just_ a partner, huh?"

(Judy still wasn't sure how a sweetheart like Cotton could have come from a family like Etta's, but she imagined that her parents wondered much the same thing about _her_ during her growing up years.)

"Well, he _has_ become my best friend, so…yep."

And, _really_ , now that she thought about it, it had been years since they were kits. Maybe it was time to set aside the animosity and develop a relationship as adults.

Taking a deep breath, Judy was about to do just that when she was arrested by the expression on Etta's face. She looked confused, almost, like she was trying to figure out some sort of puzzle as she examined Judy's face. Then, out of nowhere, realization drew her sister's face slack.

"'Best friend'? No way," she barked out a laugh, which was quickly lost amidst the carnival-like atmosphere, "even though you brought him home to meet the family? You have no idea at all, do you? Even with the way that you look at…well! I never thought it'd happen, I really didn't. I mean, there was always that one buck, but then he… My oh my. Who woulda thunk it? And you don't even realize it."

 _So much for a truce._

"Okay, I clearly don't know what you're talking about," Judy responded with exasperation.

Etta blinked. Then set down the bottle she'd picked up in order to feed her youngest kit, the little boy mewling as he woke to the sound of his mother's voice, "look, Judy, I know that I was pretty combative all during our growing up years. But I'm not going to be the one to get in the way of Mom when she's got her paw in the pie, especially when it's something big enough for her to turn aside from those fight-or-flight instincts she's always told us to listen to."

Paw in the pie? Fight or flight? What was _wrong_ with her family?

"For once in my life I am going to sit this one out. Judy, I wish you all the luck in the world. You're gonna need it," and then Henrietta was toting her kit in her arms and heading off to where her husband, Luke, stood speaking to one of his young brother-in-laws.

Leaving Judy there, gaping, sitting on the red checkered picnic blanket entirely alone.

 _What had just happened?_ _First her mom acts all weird before forcing them to bunk together? Then Etta does no more than the barebones equivalent of a mocking session, then runs off while using_ their mother _as an excuse?!_ Something was definitely going on, beyond the shenanigans involved in _getting_ her here, and she was going to find out what it was.

Rising from her crouch, Judy set off for the weakest link at the party, the one rabbit that always told the 100%, bluntly honest truth; a buck that couldn't lie if his life depended on it.

Her father.

"Oh, hey there, Jude-the-Dude," the farmer greeted her as she crossed the yard to where he stood next to the grill. He was nearing the end of his tri-yearly responsibility with all the vegetables nearly finished, piled up on steaming trays that even now made her mouth water. She'd had the chance to pick at some dishes as she'd passed the table with her niece, but it hadn't been near enough in her opinion.

Deciding to take advantage of the nonchalant cover which munching on food afforded her, Judy picked up the nearest vegetable kabob and bit off a grilled piece of green pepper.

"Hey, Dad. How are things going?"

"Pretty well. Toni, Timothy, Tami, and Terry all took turns helping out, so I'm not doing it alone this year," he chuckled, "it makes me glad that so many of you are growing up. Why, I remember back when the first few litters of kits were too small to do more'n pick up your toys and your mom and I had to do everything. I mean, _everything_. Well, that was quite an adventure, let me tell you that. But you know what I always say—many hands make light work."

She laughed weakly, biting her lip, "yeah…that's nice, Dad."

"Which of course helps out your older siblings, because they've got plenty of babysitters! It's good for all of the younger half to get that experience, helping out. That way they can prepare for their own families! Not that we should have that happening for a couple of years, yet," he added with a frown, "I caught Quinley with that Travers boy and darned if they weren't gettin' too close! She hasn't turned eighteen yet, and if they want to make things serious then he'd better speak to me beforehand."

"Quin?" she blinked, momentarily taken back, "but she's just a kid."

"That was my thought," he agreed, shaking his cooking tongs at her, "heaven knows eighteen isn't the youngest one of my kits has gotten hitched—your brother, Jeremy, probably wins the record for that one, but thankfully his Maria has a good head on her shoulders—but they better ask permission _first_ , is what I think."

 _Well,_ _that_ _shocker aside…_ _Quin_ _, of all rabbits…_

"Um, Dad, speaking of siblings, I was talking with Henrietta and she said something that I want to ask you about."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure Jude. What's up?"

With those large brown eyes turned on her she almost felt uncomfortable asking, but then the cop in her reared up and the truth came out.

"Dad. What is Mom up to?"

There was a moment of complete stillness as the question was processed, then his faltering expression told it all: jaw pulling back into a gasp, ears dropping and nose twitching at a mile a minute. And if she didn't know any better the twitch in his leg was about to translate itself into rapid thumping.

Well, there was all those 'tells' along with the way that he dropped his tongs to the ground, the clang of metal on brick startling nearly every mammal present. Except for one.

"Are you and Judy gonna have kits?" the question came from a precocious 11-year old kit, cynical for his years and the color of a toasted marshmallow—pale cream fur everywhere, except for ashy brown surrounding muzzle and paws.

Into the silence came the question, and if any conversation _had_ been about to cover it up, that died in an instant.

It looked like Nick had finally found a chance to finish his meal, arms free and leaning against the sole tree in their immediate yard. The siblings that had been tailing him had finally found other diversions, leaving her fox partner alone and therefore susceptible to her brother's trap.

Judy was torn between watching the train wreck of a conversation occurring between Nick and her brother, Xavier, and further confronting the frozen statue that her father had become.

Her partner coughed out a bit of an awkward laugh before slowly going down on one knee to talk face-to-face with the kit in the black skull T-shirt. "Well, I hate to point this out—what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. And it's Xavier," the child responded frankly, never breaking eye contact.

Judy was going to have to have _another_ conversation with him about how some predators took that as a challenge… Then again, that just might make him do it more often.

Never mind.

"Xavier—nice name. Straight out of the X-Mice, isn't it?" when this resulted in no response, the kit undeterred, Nick gave him a soft little half-smile. From here Judy couldn't be sure, but it seemed kind of…off somehow. A little like the expression he used when trying to pull a desperate hustle. No, wait, she knew this one—it was the face he'd used when trying to talk his way out of being escorted to Mr. Big's place, that first time.

"Well, _Xavier_ , that's quite a question, isn't it? And a good one—it's always good to be curious and to ask questions, because that's how we learn about our world. As to the answer…um, okay, let's see. Ah, Judy, could you come here?"

 _What?_

He waved her over with a paw, jolting her out of the shock of hearing her real name come from _his_ lips. She coughed, "yeah, sure." As she did so her father wilted in relief.

 _You're not getting off the hook, Dad_ … she thought, scowling.

Then Judy was standing next to her kneeling partner and she realized with a start that, taking the height difference out of the equation, they were shoulder-to-shoulder, green and violet on the same eye level. Her eyebrows and ears rose of their own accord and she couldn't help jumping slightly when he swung an arm around her waist, then jerked again as she was unceremoniously tugged closer.

"Now, Xavier. You seem like an observant fellow. When you look at us, what do you see?" Over the top of her little brother's head she could see her Bonnie Hopps drawing near her husband, nose twitching as she whispered something into one long ear. Henrietta, meanwhile, was watching the proceeds with a satisfied smirk, the dark kit in her arms gnawing on her sleeve, unnoticed. And then there was her father…

"You're orange," young, expressionless eyes and a smart mouth said shortly.

Nick chuckled, and Judy could feel it all the way from her torso to her toes. Something in her chest clenched, a bubble of warmth hiccupping to her heart, but not in a bad way.

"That I am, squirt. And Judy here is grey. What else did you notice?"

The kit's gaze lifted to the top of their heads, comparing, "and your ears are weird."

"Xavier," Bonnie scolded disapprovingly, ignoring the handful of children that giggled, "you have plenty of predator friends at school and you don't seem to think that _their_ ears are weird. There's no need to be rude to Mr. Wilde."

But her wonderful partner just laughed, his opposite paw held up in entreaty, "don't worry about it, Mrs. Hopps." Judy could see her mother press her lips together, fighting the urge to correct him. Mrs. Hopps was her mother-in-law, after all. She was just Bonnie. But Nick was trying to cement who was in authority, just as her mother was, and there was no way that they were going to undermine one another.

"Well, if that's the case then he's probably already aware of my delightfully fluffy tail," he wagged it, "as well as my paw-pads." The last difference, that of his sharpened teeth, was ignored as Nicholas gave them all a close-mouthed smile.

(Although, knowing the pre-teen, she could easily see him wanting the fox to bare his teeth, up close and personal, merely for the thrill of it.)

But it really was thoughtful of him, Judy realized. He was trying his best not to push any buttons, and was even taking the lower status position—something that was important to canines—by giving her the standing high ground. Even the paw he had wrapped around her waist, arm sinewy and strong at her back from training with the ZPD, showcased the trust they had for one another.

"Simply put, I'm a fox. Do you know any other foxes, Xavier?"

There was a cool nod, "yeah. Gideon Grey. But he's kind of boring."

Unbidden, a snort of laughter escaped her and among the siblings that had gone to school in Judy's generation there came a somewhat nervous titter. Across the way her mother was using liberal use of the universal face-palm method to express her exasperation while her father had unwound enough to chuckle a bit, paws on his suspender straps. The curious brow from her partner demanded a later explanation.

"Well, I can't promise that I'm not _also_ boring, but in any case, foxes and bunnies are different species. Even if they wanted to," was it just her or did he choke a little there? Followed by a cough and a clearing of his throat, "they can't have kits. Not together. We're just not built that way. We eat different foods, too."

Before the boy could point out that Nick had eaten the same barbecued vegetables that they had, Nick continued conversationally, "unless, of course, a mad scientist created a bunny-fox hybrid, like Doctor Ferretstein's monster."

Xavier's attention zipped back to those sly half-lidded green eyes before a smile finally twitched on the kit's lips. It was a show that they had reached an impasse; that Nick was one of 'his kind' of mischief makers and rogues. Therefore, today at the very least, he was off the hook.

"Like a Liger. Or Bunnicula," the bunny remarked. In for a penny, in for a pound…

Just like that the tension was cut and her family was dispersing into little groups, so that it was just the three of them standing there. Her father had disappeared in the crowd, his short height to his advantage, and her mother with him. Judy cursed mentally that he'd gotten away but knew that, within a town their size, there was only so much hiding that he could do.

"Or you could adopt. Lee's adopted," Xavier abruptly stated, and the vulpine arm around her waist—becoming a friendly embrace—once again tightened, making Judy jerk and stare at her partner. Nick had stiffened in that instant, head pulled back as something like shock smacked him in the face. With how close he'd pulled her she found herself near enough to feel his heartbeat. Which was racing faster than her bunny one ever had.

"You should adopt a _wolverine_. I wanna be an uncle to a wolverine."

But the moment broke once more and the former conman pulled out a canned laugh and ruffled the tuft of fur on Xavier's head, "we'll keep that in mind, Kiddo."

Mischief managed, the kit hopped away to corner some other victim, leaving the two of them still in each other's arms. They held the position a beat longer before pulling away, Judy laughing weakly as Nick groaned while rising from his kneeling position, knees numb and sore.

"I am way too old for this," he muttered.

Her smile was crooked as she scratched at her cheek, "but not too old to hold your own against an eleven-year old. Nice work there, Slick Nick."

"Yeah, well, I—." But she never got to hear the end of his sentence as her name was called by a russet-colored bunny heading their direction.

"Hey, Judy! There's someone at the door for you!"

The cop exchanged a look with her partner. The night before Truce Day was kind of a traditional cease-fire among Bunnyburrow residents; a day in which to spend time with family and _only_ family. Intrusions were frowned on and unless a guest was _specifically_ invited it was considered "family time." What was more, if any of their neighbors _had_ been intending on crashing the party then they would have just come straight to the back, where the barbecue was. Waiting at the front door indicated a need for privacy, and was based on the hope that someone had lingered in the house long enough to hear the doorbell.

In that moment a teenager wearing hipster glasses pulled up beside them, the tips of her ears dyed a subtle maroon.

"Thanks, um, Rose. Who is it?"

"How should I know?" the apathetic teen muttered, popping her bubblegum as she simultaneously texted on her phone. It was an older model, with a sliding feature and bubble-like keyboard, but the effect was still the same as any number of Zootopian kids with their iCarrots.

 _Teens and their devices…_

The cop tried to stifle her impatience. She hadn't been living at home for some time now, so she couldn't expect that any of them would have kept track of who had which friends, "alright then, Rose…could you tell me what they looked like?"

The girl gave her a rolling shrug right as Nick pulled up beside her once again, sending Judy's heart into her throat as his sleeve brushed her shoulder.

"I dunno. It's kinda dark out. It was hard to see her."

"And you…didn't turn on the porchlight?" Judy prompted with growing impatience, paws crossing and foot tapping ever-so-slightly.

Apparently that had never occurred to the girl as she looked up for the first time from her digital device to stare at the elder rabbit, brown eyes wide.

Judy pinched the bridge of her nose, taking in a deep breath, "okay, you know what, never mind. I will go…and talk to them. Which door did they come to—front or kitchen-side?"

"Um, front," Rose muttered, once more focused solely on the world within her cellphone.

Rolling her eyes, the cop and her partner started for the house after she waved for him to follow her. But they weren't so far away that she missed Rose add something more.

"She had a pretty sweet camera, though."

 _Camera?_ **Camera!**

Eagerness came bowling over the rabbit like another rolling herd of her siblings, and Judy was picking up the pace until she was nearly running toward the house. They could talk about what…happened there, with Xavier, after everything settled down. Then maybe Nick would have some idea as to what was going on with her family and why they were acting strangely. But as for now, she had a friend to meet.

"Woah! Carrots! What's the hurry?"

"C'mon!" she called over her shoulder, "I know who it is, she's—she's my best friend from high school! Hurry!"

"Alright, I'm coming. Just bear in mind that these fox feet aren't as young as they used to be."

"Don't give me that—I saw the results on your physical," with that last taunt they drew up to the house, dodging through the kitchen's screen door and sliding down the hallway. A small handful of Judy's less social brothers and siblings could be found scattered across the living room carpet, playing a card game with strange monsters on it, while others had tucked themselves into well-worn windowseats with a good book. The cop duo hopped, slid past, and dodged through these bunnies until making it to the wide front door, the honey-colored wood covered in the well-worn spirals her father had carved upon finishing the house for her mother. But even that barrier didn't last for long as she jerked the handle free, skidding to a stop on the stone steps of the front porch.

" _Sarah!"_

" _Judy!"_

Grey and ebony met in the middle as the two rabbits swung into a hug, laughing and talking between an unsteady twirl of movement. Then Judy was pulling back, examining her friend and beaming from cheek to fuzzy cheek.

"Wow! You look so good!"

"You, too! The cop life must be going well for you. You look really trim."

"Not as trim as you'd think. But you look like you've gotten some sun. Your fur is lighter."

"Just on the top! I've been doing a lot of work in the sun."

"Man, it's good to see you."

"You, too. I've missed you, Judy, I—oh. Wow," Sarah abruptly took a step back to gaze over her friend's shoulder, "who's this?"

"Oh, this is Nick," the grey bunny explained shortly, blushing for no reason at all at the other rabbit's tone of admiration.

"Nick?" the girl blinked, then slowly smiled, looking Judy's way, "as in, your partner and roommate, Nick? _That_ Nick?"

"Um, yeah."

Turning to face the fox in question, she opened her mouth to introduce them officially, only to freeze at the expression on his face. He was outright gaping, eyes wide as he took in the new bunny's appearance, and despite the weird anxiety this caused in her stomach—was that… _jealously?!_ —she couldn't wholly blame him for it.

Sarah was, honestly, a striking, lovely rabbit. Her family had trekked all over when they were growing up and the world-travel had nurtured her personality into what it was now: curious, kind, genuine, loyal and free-spirited.

Despite not being born there, Sarah was 100% a Bunnyburrow resident, through and through. She was made for kindness. Even to the point of standing up for the downtrodden in the face of their oppressors—a trait that got her in trouble sometimes. But the farmers and shopkeepers of Bunnyburrow appreciated her frank honesty and sense of humor. And above all, she loved the land, going on "little explorations" through the rolling fields and woods, collecting acorns and leaves.

These traits seemed impossible to hide, radiating through her fur like a golden aura. Similarly, her warm personality was reflected in the welcoming colors of her dress, from the saffron-and-marigold wraparound skirt to the cream-colored peasant blouse she wore. Her earrings were dangly, Native-Antelope inspired, and the antique-looking camera hanging around her neck was protected in a case made of woven and stained reeds. Her contrasting jet fur only made the colors she wore seem more brilliant, the light from the open doorway flickering off of both like jewels, and her amber eyes glowed with mirth and humor.

Judy considered herself lucky to have a friend like Sarah—in many ways she wasn't sure if her goals to become a cop would have gotten off the ground if it weren't for her friend (there was only so much "battling the bullies" that one could do on one's own). Nor would she have she acquired the qualities needed to open her heart to the people of Zootopia, she imagined. Judy really did owe Sarah a lot. They were wholly different mammals, but they were kindred spirits. Simply put, Sarah made her better.

Still gaping at the lanky fox in front of her, that same rabbit took Judy's arm in hand and nudged her away, startling her from her reflective thoughts, "uh, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Yeah, sure. What's up?"

Once they were what her friend deemed 'far enough away' from the porch's overhang, Nick politely giving them space, Sarah asked in a low whisper, "you told me a lot about Nick—as in, _a lot_ —but you didn't tell me that he was a _silver fox._ "

Violet eyes blinked, "silver fox? What are you talking about?"

She dodged a look over her shoulder to make sure that he wasn't watching, then sighed heavily, "an older…attractive male?"

It took a second for Judy to process that, but when she finally did…the blush went off in a wave of warmth from the tip of her ears to her toes. She tried to cough it off.

"C'mon, he's just…Nick. And he's not that much older than us."

"But you're not arguing about the attractive part," she pointed out, smile slowly lifting the corners of her mouth.

Judy opened her mouth to argue…and found that she couldn't.

Across the way, leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe with hands in pockets, her favorite fox remained expressionless. This marginally reassured her, enough that she weakly nodded.

"Okay, so he's attractive," she admitted. _Both_ of Nick's ears flickered her direction. Judy rushed to continue, "but so are a billion other mammals out there!"

"Uh huh," Sarah commented, arms folded and expression knowing, "I noticed that you didn't say that there were a billion other _bunnies_ out there."

"I'm just going to go inside," the bunny cop muttered, trying to make an escape. But the small paw on her arm wouldn't let her.

"Okay, I'll stop. And…I really do have a reason for being here—besides teasing you and asking about your silver fox of a partner. Which he is, you know. Now I understand what you meant by, 'you'd probably want to photograph him.'"

Okay, so maybe she had said that once, via texting. Judy ran a paw over her face, sighing, "Sarah. We're…not like that."

"Which is too bad, because if I didn't know any better, he kinda…" the darker bunny could easily hide in the night, but light sparked off of her amber eyes with ease as she looked back toward Nick, his tail twitching with agitation, "anyway…"

Sarah huffed out a breath, searching through her thoughts, "so…have you been on Furbook recently?"

Judy had to laugh, "you know, lately a lot of our conversations seem to start with that question."

The other doe couldn't help smiling, "yeah, I guess they do. The reason I ask is…well. Did you see the wedding invitation that Steven and Brittany sent out?"

Judy sighed heavily, rubbing at the furrow her brows had made, "yeah, I saw it for about, I dunno, a second or two."

"Did you happen to look at the date?"

"No. Why?"

"Well…it's the day after tomorrow," at the blank expression on her friend's face—and the wide green eyes that belonged to said friend's partner, flickering back and forth between them—she hurried on, "so…Steven and Brittany _andreallyeveryonewegrewupwithiscoming_ because…everyone was already going to be here for Truce Day, so…they. They planned the wedding to happen _right after_ the festival. It's going to happen, literally, _the_ _day_ _after_. That's actually why I'm in town—Steven asked me to do their wedding photos," she held up the camera bag hanging from her neck.

"Because," she continued while Judy's body began freezing by degrees, "as much as I like the festival, I've been working on my photography final and I've been pretty busy. Plus…that's a _lot_ of bunnies. So if he hadn't asked me outright, I probably wouldn't have come. But they're paying me, so the drive up seemed worth it."

Judy hadn't thought that her heart could hurt any more than it already had. That the pain of Steven's rejection had finally healed over, like a scar over an old wound. But it was still a stab in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

So very hard.

Nick, seeming to sense that something was wrong, stepped away from the light of the doorway to draw near. She dimly noticed his presence in the part of her that wasn't frozen over, like a faded heat source in a snowstorm.

"I just…wanted to make sure that you would be okay," Sarah continued with some concern, "I know how much you got hurt when everything happened. And I'm sorry if I ruined your holiday, but I thought that it would come better from me than if you just…walked into the situation. With everyone talking about it. I mean, I'm sure that your mom or dad already told you, but…"

No. No, they hadn't. "It's…it's okay. Thank you for telling me."

Unconsciously one paw came up to rub at her chest. She hardly noticed, but Nick's green eyes flickered down to follow the path.

Of course, she shouldn't have been surprised that Steven had asked Sarah to do their photos. They'd all grown up together; they were all friends. Or _had_ been friends. And Sarah had even been their (meaning, Judy and Steven's) private matchmaker.

Until…

"And Judy, I hate to tell you this, but…" the rabbit bit her bottom lip anxiously, "he's been asking specifically if you're coming. I tried to tell him that I wasn't sure, but…"

As of tomorrow morning the whole town would know that she was here.

She would have no choice but to go.

~/~/~

She didn't remember entering the house; in fact she only started noticing her surroundings with the ping of the elevator arriving at their basement level. It also brought to her awareness the large paw Nick had around her back, thumb's pad rubbing absently against her T-shirt in a soothing circle.

The cop completely vetoed the idea of returning to the barbecue, missing family prayer as well as the typical round of putting the younger kits to bed. Instead Judy was hazily put to bed herself, tucked in by a fox who kept hitting his head on the bed above her.

"Nick, you…you don't have to do this for me. Really, I'm fine. I _am_."

He was hovering above her, green eyes pained and anxious, "Carrots. You know that you don't have to put on that brave face for me. You're hurting, and that's okay. But pretending that everything's alright isn't going to make things better."

She let out a single, choked laugh, "who was it that told me to never let anyone see that they get to me?"

"Yeah, but…" he sighed, heavily, "I'd like to think that I'm not just 'anyone.' And…it isn't good to keep it in, trust me."

Her response was to roll over, tugging the blankets with her until she was bound by a cocoon of fabric, the smell of her mother's favorite fabric softener filling her senses. Then, with her face turned to the wall, she let one tear fall.

Nick continued rambling, a kind of sad desperation coloring his voice, "we'll figure this out. Just…we'll make sense of things in the morning. We'll come up with a battle plan. But until then, know that you aren't alone Carr— _Judy_. I'll be just across the…the sheeted divide if you need me. Okay?"

"Okay," she attempted, voice cracking.

It was enough to break him.

"Oh, Judy," he murmured, then she found her favorite fox presence wrapping around her in a tender hug. The floodgates opened and she cried herself to sleep, Nicholas P. Wilde guarding her until she found her way into blessed darkness.

~/~/~

AN: Wow. This ended up a huge monstrosity. O_O Also, this is a long Author's Note. Feel free to skip it if you'd like.

Anyway…

 **Firstly:** MAJOR POST-CHAPTER WARNING/APOLOGY HERE! Up until this point I've tried to maintain the same character's POV through each chapter, with Judy and Nick basically taking turns (remember, chapters 3 and 4 were supposed to be one chapter. But the reason for them being split is fairly obvious…).

But all my notes of the next few chapters came as waves of inspiration, where each scene is very much dominated by either one or the other character. And to change the perspective would damage much of the emotional impact of the scene.

So! We are going to do quite a bit more switching back and forth between Nick's impressions and Judy's, within the same chapter. But! I feel like, overall, it will be a more satisfying experience. :)

-salutes-

 **SECONDLY:** Yes, I know. This update took forever to happen. And it ended up HUGE. But the good news is that the next chapter is about 3/4 the written. And the next chapter after that is outlined. So. Yeah. Accept this humble (but gigantic) offering. –laughs weakly-

 **Other Notes:**

-Despite all the superfluous details, this was really fun to write. :3 My best friend has 11 siblings, and writing about Judy's family was kind of like writing a reflection piece of what happens every time I go over to her family's place. _When a sudden swarm of children attack you._ XD

I know that oftentimes people gloss over the true scale of Judy's family, but they're a part of her personality and what helped her become the rabbit that she is, so I figured that I would explore them for the sake of this chapter (and this chapter alone. We'll be seeing one more sibling appear, but that's about it). And, yes, I have named every single one of her siblings…and I have them all listed on a very, very busy-looking chart. XD Which is why I know exactly which kids got up to mischief in chapter 2 (the ones Bonnie talked about) and which ones are old enough to have families of their own.

-And there's nothing wrong with getting married right out of the gate—my ultimate goal is to become a stay at home mom, myself. :D (And I will be such a _freaking awesome_ stay at home mom, let me tell you!) I just think that it is particularly unkind of people to look down on anyone else for wanting something different than what they, themselves want. I want marriage and I feel like that's a major priority, but other people might feel inspired to get into specific careers. –shrugs- Lesson learned: don't be rude regarding others' life goals. ;-)

-The existence of her cousin, Martha, is a cameo of a certain fanfiction author…

-I've had the chance to spend basically a week and a half of the Christmas season with my mom and my sister, so many of the interactions Judy has with her parents and the relief she feels at "coming home" is very much influenced by this. ;-) Cheers. This is pretty much the first Christmas vacation I've had since I graduated from High School. :| I am 29 years old.

-And the barbecue is based off of a Fourth of July weekend family dinner my best friend and I attended. We have a mutual guy-friend who, like us, is a little older. So every time he has a friend who is female come with him to family events they all automatically assume that he must be dating her. So, to shake things up a bit and confuse the crap out of everyone, _both_ my best friend and I went. That way his family couldn't tell which girl he was "dating." It was a fun kind of mischief. :3

-"Steven" did post his wedding invitation on Facebook, and "Brittany" did invite me to the event online. Sarah was involved in making me aware of this fact, although she did it via texting and not in person, so that _is_ slightly different. And the wedding was set for either only a month or two after they'd gotten engaged…

-Sorry if Sarah seems out of character. If the real "Sarah" is reading this (or another friend who may or may not make an appearance later on… :3 ). It's been a while since we spoke in person, so getting your speech pattern and behaviors are hard (you'd probably tease less, but with Nick present anything can happen. XD ). But my sentiments about how awesome "Sarah" is are 100% true. You are wonderful. I adore your face. You fill my heart with sunshine. I will draw you someday—just watch me. 3

*Green jello with carrots in it has been added, as per the request of a Guest reviewer. You are of course correct-how COULD I have forgotten that carrot-y dish? XD -laughs- Although, despite it being the iconic "dish of Utah," I have never actually partaken of such a thing...but my guy-friend says that it does exist. ;-)

 **I love you all. Thanks for putting up with me. Cheers.**


	6. Sunrise

**Forks**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: "Oh, I'll be fine. I don't feel like murdering him with a fork or anything. Much. I'll get back to you in the morning." Judy receives another grim reminder that she's single. Nick tries his best to help, in his own way. Based on a true story.

Disclaimer: Pffft, as if I own anything Disney-related. I don't even own the puns I use as currency!

This chapter's theme music: _Wake Up Little Susie_ , by The Everly Brothers

 **P.S. There's a lot of fluff in this. You've been warned. ;-)**

~/~/~

 **Chapter 6 : Sunrise**

" _It was one of those problematic occasions with long silences, sporadic coughs, and people saying isolated things like, "Well, isn't this nice."_

-Terry Pratchett

 _ **Previously:**_

 _"_ _Who was it that told me to never let anyone see that they get to me?"_

 _"_ _Yeah, but…I'd like to think that I'm not just 'anyone.' And…it isn't good to keep it in, trust me."_

~/~/~

Nick wasn't sure what to feel at this point.

He was somewhere between numb and electric, nerves touching a live wire.

They'd woken up together.

Which was to say that Nick, exhausted by a day of travel and exuberant family members and constantly having to be careful not to step on anyone, had wrapped his arms around his partner in an effort to comfort her and then had just…

Fallen asleep.

It had been interesting, to say the least, to wake up at 9:37 a.m., his watch glowing faintly and blearily searching for the sun and not quite understanding _why_ it wasn't shooting towards him with laser-like focus through the cracks in his blinds. Instead he had found himself in perfect darkness, the feeling of being enclosed…warm… _safe_ going through his veins like a slow-moving river. It had all been soothing, as though some part of his subconscious—his fox self, he supposed, which was made for dens and holes—had finally found its place there.

Reveling in the serenity of the moment, he'd tried to stretch and further bury himself in the heavy quilt he was tangled up in…only to almost fall off the bed. What's more, as he did so he'd found something stirring within the circle of his arms and tail, his body cradling a form as though protecting whatever was inside the hollow of his embrace…

The bundle of fur, it's rapid heartbeat beating against his side, let out a heavy breath and burrowed more deeply into his chest, the top of its head brushing against the underside of his jaw, soft and gentle and wonderful and…

Judy.

His heart lurched in that exact moment, her scent catching his breath in his throat, like a scarf loosely resting against his shoulders only to _tighten_ into a noose at the last possible moment.

 _Crap._

She hadn't seemed to register his dismay, though, as he felt her paws knead into his chest, nose twitching with each sigh. Within the realm of her dreams he guessed that she must be chasing a perp, the twitch of her legs gently hitting his knees. Maybe it was this that had woken him up from one of the best sleeps he had ever had?

Or it could have been the knock on the door.

With a strangled yelp Nick fell off of the tiny bunk and to the floor below. The sudden movement made Judy jerk and moan, yet still she didn't fully wake, mumbling something that sounded a lot like she was handing out Miranda Rights.

The fox grimaced from the floor, before being pulled back to the moment by another set of rapid-fire taps.

When he finally rose, groaning at the ache in his back and knees from sleeping in the same position all night long (and trying to ignore the way that Judy continued mumbling to herself) he proceeded to limp to the door. Leaning against it heavily when his joints began to creak.

"Hi, yes, what's up?" the fox immediately asked, wincing and rubbing at his knees.

The pre-teen, about to open her mouth and speak, jerked to a stop as confusion colored her face, "who…why are _you_ here?"

He blinked.

Now really wasn't the time for existential questions.

She continued, annoyingly, "i-isn't this Judy's room?"

Then the child's ears lifted and nose began to twitch as his partner stirred behind him. Nick resisted the urge to run a paw down the length of his maw.

"Yes, yes it is. Your mom put me in here, too. Now. What can we help you with?"

"Um," the bunny seemed to hesitate now, her earbuds lying limply against her shoulders, "Mom says that breakfast's ready, so…yeah."

He took a second to process this before nodding, once, "alright. Thank you. We'll be right up."

"But-!" she started to ask, but he had already snapped the door shut in her face at that point.

~/~/~

She'd woken up with his scent surrounding her.

It lingered on her blankets, a mix of some kind of cheap tropical cologne, a waft of coffee, and his own natural musk. When Judy slowly woke she curled into it at first, gripping the sheets close to her chest and breathing it in.

Her mind wondered if his laundry had ended up mixing with hers again, as it sometimes did. At least it was easy enough to tell their batches apart—not something that could be said when she did laundry at home.

 _At home?_

Opening eyes heavy with sleep, Judy felt the thought roll over her like a tumble of bunny siblings, some sort of important weight attached.

Only then did the city rabbit realize that these weren't her crisp lavender sheets, nor the soft comforter her littermate-sisters had sent her last Christmas. The whole thing was patchwork, the brush of fabrics—jeans, knit cloth, satin, canvas, and soft T-shirt material—rubbing against the pads of her paws. Her mother had made a quilt like this for all of her children, combining various outfits they'd grown out of into an ever-widening blanket.

"Mom says that breakfast's ready, so…yeah."

Mom…?

 _Mom._

Mom!

Sleep disappearing in that moment, Judy jolted awake with abrupt awareness of her surroundings. The room was dark, but completely familiar, slats of wood above her filled with books she'd snuck into the house.

"Alright. Thank you. We'll be right up."

And Nick was here with her.

Something within her settled down as the thought came, explaining in an instant why it smelled like he was wound all around her. It wasn't a surprise, after the hug that he'd given her last night, sadness coming over her in a wave as she…

That sort of thinking was shut down as the rabbit's senses took in the sheer _amount_ of his scent permeating her blankets. Judy frowned, ears popping up and out from beneath her pillow, which appeared to have been claimed by a very heavy bowling ball.

Or possibly a head, laying side by side with her own. All night long. The amount of red fur that had been shed on the sheets certainly attested to it. And there, up against her arm, her head, and her neck she could see russet strands mixing with grey. Flushing at the happy lurch this caused in her stomach, Judy tried to slow her breathing and take stock of the situation.

 _One._ Nick was up and talking to one of Judy's siblings at the door. _Two._ They'd woken up together. Now, the fact that she was still fully dressed and that the last thing she could remember was crying in his arms, meant that them sleeping in the same bed had not been deliberate.

Which was good.

Although the tiniest part of her, the side that watched romantic period dramas and had been severely wounded by the knowledge of Steven's upcoming wedding the night before…was currently daydreaming about what it would be like to be held in her partner's arms…indefinitely. While also regretting the fact that she couldn't recall more of the two of them snuggling together.

 _Moving on a bit fast, are we?_ Came her conscience with a heavy dollop of sarcasm. _Heart broken one second, dreaming about Nick the next…_

But it wasn't as though this was the first time she'd wondered what it would be like if she and her best friend had a closer relationship…

Feeling the flush crawl up her skin, Judy whipped her head around to face the bunk above her in an effort at not focusing too much on what her mind (and heart) were willing to imagine: them snuggling on the couch a little closer than they'd ever done before, him holding her for no other reason than just to hold her, Nick slowly kissing her awake…

Shooting down that thought before it could fully form, she tried to focus on what was real, and physical. And not some dream that would never come true.

The ZPD poster she'd taped on the wooden bed above her glared down on the rabbit, some nameless tiger cop in blue pointing his finger sternly. She felt immediately chastened for her thoughts, in respect for her partner.

Then, as she forced her thoughts away her eyes took to meandering along the rest of her bed, claw-marked and old, the top bunk's slats filled with 'treasures.' There were ticket stubs and postcards, news clippings and drawings given to her by Cotton. Plus a few novels, hidden in an effort to keep her siblings from finding them and subsequently trashing them.

There was Harry Otter and the Prisoner of Azkabat, Artemis Fowl, and The Purrincess Bride. Plus a cheesy teenage romance she'd confiscated from two arguing sisters, which Judy had privately fallen in love with, involving a Tiger and Lion meeting on the subway and—

Anyway.

Judy closed her eyes, then realized quite suddenly that the room had gone silent. They flared back open and she shot a glance toward the door, through the drawn curtain dividing up her room to see—

Nick standing in the opening, a torn expression on his face. He had one paw resting on the rope line, the other on his hip as he thought something deeply through. Her partner looked about as wrinkled as she was, his tie loose and collar listing to one side. Which meant that her conclusion had been correct—nothing had happened.

(Doing nothing to distract her from the fact that he was lanky, rumpled, and utterly handsome.)

They had both merely fallen asleep after a long, exhausting day, ending with a bout of crying.

Together. They'd fallen asleep together.

After he'd _comforted_ her.

Which was honestly okay. And frankly, somewhat adorable.

But it was something a best friend would do for another best friend, so it was no big deal. Right?

It also left them awkwardly looking at one another, she realized as green met violet and a kind of awkward silence shot up between them like a weed in her mother's garden. He swallowed painfully, a slight wince on his maw, and right then and there she decided to dodge the whole thing and just take them both out of their misery.

"Nick…thank you for staying with me through the night. For…helping me not be alone," she began, hesitantly. This, out of all things, seemed to be the exact opposite of what Nick had expected, as she watched him blink rapidly and straighten.

She continued, "No one's ever done that for me before, not even my parents. Usually they just hugged us and tucked us back in our bunk. And it was probably anything but comfortable, so…thank you."

Judy still felt a little odd, having this conversation while laying flat in her bed like some sort of awakened sleeping beauty. But it was far better to break the ice now than to have to bring up the matter later, after a day of discomfort.

He had taken to rubbing the back of his neck uncertainly, but at her words tugged both limbs down as he faced her, "then you're not mad?"

Her nose crinkled, "why would I be mad?"

"Well…I'm sure that it'll make things awkward with your parents…having woken up with a fox in your bed."

"My parents don't have the time to care that much," she hastened to say, ignoring how just talking about it made her blush. Thank _heavens_ for thick fur! "and I also wake up every morning to find one in my apartment, too. Are you suggesting that I start calling pest control?" she asked sarcastically, eyes half-lidded. As the familiarity of their back-and-forth banter began Judy could see something sharp and tense within him visibly relax.

"Then you don't mind that you're going to smell like a fox for the next couple of days?"

"How is that going to be any different than when you forget to shower?" she asked drolly, "besides, you're going to smell like a billion different bunnies and if _that_ isn't going to set the gossips' tongues wagging, I don't know what will."

"Well," he started thoughtfully, taking a careful step forward with paws behind his back. Then another and another until he was nearly at her side, "then I suppose the scent of one more bunny won't make I difference if I do something like… _this!_ "

Judy squealed and tried to scoot away, but it was too late! The tangle of blankets had her strapped down and unable to dodge his attack as Nick alternately tickled and noogied his partner, making sure that his scent was good and rubbed in. Judy admittedly tried to give as good as she got, but was at a slight disadvantage with her paws scrambling to get out from within the cage he'd created. The fact that they'd both fallen asleep wearing every-day clothing didn't help either, the fabric too thick for her to get any effective jabs in.

When Nick suddenly stopped it was a second before she noticed, just grinning and trying to catch her breath in the midst of his onslaught. As awareness hit, it was to find that their faces were very, _very_ close. His muzzle before hers, green eyes wide and open even as his facial expression stilled. Judy's laughter cut off abruptly and, with him close enough to rest paws against her side, she knew that he heard the exact moment when her heartbeat started to race even _faster_ , if that was possible.

Ginger ears were pointed and alert, tail painfully motionless behind him, and his verdant eyes seemed to focus in on one thing—her face.

Feeling her own ears pop up at the searing heat of his gaze resting on her, the rabbit hoped beyond hope that he couldn't smell the change of heat signatures as she found her cheeks burning.

"Nick…I…I… _PHFFFT!_ "

He'd shoved his forearm into her muzzle, swiping down from forehead to chin so that she found herself with a face full of fox fur as he effectively wiped his scent across the whole of her head.

"I couldn't leave your face forgotten, Carrots."

She growled and yet laughed, half-relieved as the moment broke and he walked to "his side" of the divided room and behind the hung curtain. But the curtain couldn't hide his ears overtop, alert and wiggling.

"Ooooh, you are SO going to get it, Nicholas Piberius Wilde."

He pulled down the line low enough to look over at her with a smirk, "not if your mom gets to us first for being late for breakfast."

"Cheese and crackers, I forgot!"

~/~/~

He'd dodged a bullet this morning.

Because in that moment, as Judy had joked her way out of their awkward situation…he'd wanted to kiss her. An all-out, no holds barred, kiss.

She was absolutely, 100% one of a kind—and he had wanted to kiss her until her toes curled and her ears didn't know what to do with themselves.

The difficult part of it was that the source of these feelings wasn't even that obnoxious protectiveness flaring up again, or the desire to keep her from getting hurt. He'd had no excuse, and it had been obvious which direction his feelings pointed.

At _her_.

Nick didn't know what had set him off. Maybe it was the way the room's dim lighting glinted off the edge of her silvery fur, or how her eyes seemed to deepen to a darker shade. It could have been the tangle of blankets around her, full and bright to match the grin tugging at her cheeks. Or it could have just been that he'd waited too long for this moment, desiring with every fiber of his being that this bunny— _his_ bunny!—was in his arms.

He had wanted to kiss his best friend and partner, her eyes tearing up from laughter and cheeks straining from her grin. She'd been tiny under his paws, putting up a weak defense against his onslaught, and he'd suddenly had the thought that he wanted this— _all_ of this.

For the rest of his life.

Now, the thought wasn't new by any means. Not after that walk in the park. But with it came undeniable certainty—the kind of knowledge that shook worlds and changed lives, and somehow he didn't want to dodge it anymore.

He was in love with Judith Laverne Hopps. He'd always been in love with her. And he was about ready to do nearly anything to get her.

Honestly, it had been a long time coming, and everything in their relationship seemed to point at it. But it still felt like a nice, solid kangaroo kick to the gut. Especially when he'd felt that distinct pattern against his palms:

Her heartbeat, raging fast and furious through layers of flesh and fabric until it sunk into him. And he couldn't be sure, but in the darkened shadow of the upper bunkbed he thought he'd seen red shine through white fur of her cheeks in the form of a blush, glowing despite the lack of visibility (thank heavens for his ability to see in the dark)…

All breath had lurched to a stop in his lungs, the rest of him frozen as though carved out of stone.

 _Was she…attracted to him, too?_

It could be that he was going crazy. But it didn't change how he suddenly wanted to see if her lips were as soft as they looked—.

Which was a _terrible_ idea!

Nick had panicked, impulsively shoving his arm into her face until they were back to their usual dynamic of equal-opportunity tormenting. She'd latched on to it as hard as he had, and after that they'd been as they always were—casual, teasing. Tugging on new clothes with a double barrier between them—both physical and emotional—then patting down fur as they raced out the door and into the cabbage-rose elevator.

Then there'd been the rush to find a seat down that long hallway—Judy explaining that it wasn't as simple as slipping into an empty place, given that all the seats were sorted by age and each day they scooted closer and closer to the head of the table so as to give everyone a chance with their parents—and the worry of not having anything appropriate for him to eat.

Which of course was pointless (and easily solved), given the barbecue the night before!

But in all that he couldn't help but notice Judy's proximity, her arm brushing periodically against his and her heat at his side. She laughed at her siblings between spoonfuls of oatmeal and bumped her hip against his when he said something funny—and _oh_ , he had never tried to be funny more than in that moment! But everything seemed to come out tongue-tied and awful, so after a bit he decided that it was best to keep quiet for the time being.

Then Judy had been dragged off by her mother as soon as she finished eating, leaving him to his fate. In a strange house, with hundreds of strange mammals that he didn't know, trying to puzzle through the train wreck his mind was caught up in.

It hadn't been too bad at first, the clatter of silverware combining with the chatter of kids getting ready for their day. It was summertime and school was out both in Bunnyburrow and Zootopia, but that didn't change the fact that work still had to be done around the farm before playing could happen.

So Nick was content to observe the waves of movement around him while he finished off the mug of coffee someone had graciously slid him, acting as the calm within the storm and wondering vaguely at how strange this all was, that each and every one of the bunnies present was a sibling to Judy. He couldn't even imagine having as many siblings as she did—he'd had a hard enough time just getting along with his cousins, so he could only imagine what it would have been like if he'd had a brother or sister.

Much less several hundred of them.

When he finally finished his meal—and his partner had yet to escape—Nick stood with his dishes, uncertain what to do—until a nearly-grown bunny with cinnamon-colored fur walked up to him with a smile.

"I can take that for you, Nick. It's the N-bunnies' turn for dish duty. I'm Nila, by the way," she smiled, holding up a paw for him to shake. The fox blinked, then grinned and took the outstretched limb in his own.

"Well, if it's the 'N's that are up then shouldn't I be helping?" he joked quietly.

She just continued beaming up at him, a hint of a smirk in her smile, "not on your life. Mom would _kill_ me if she saw me treating a guest as anything less than a pearl on a velvet pillow."

 _Alright, then_. He'd started noticing a theme with that, "I suppose I wouldn't like a homicide on my conscience," he conceded.

She took his dishes before pointing to a room on the left, "Mom and Judy's talks always take a while, so you might as well wait in there. There's a TV and some books if you get bored. Sorry that you got caught in the wake of hurricane Judy."

"I'm pretty used to it at this point," he said. An accurate description if there ever was one. 'Hurricane Judy: sweeps into lives and turns everything on its head.' Although he was pretty curious about their 'long talks.' It seemed strange that her mother would even have that much time available for any single one of her children among a family as large as theirs. But he would save that question for his partner to answer, "I shouldn't expect Judy to keep me entertained 24-7. So I can manage fifteen minutes or so on my own."

The brown eyes looked to the side in thought, "well…it may be closer to thirty to forty minutes than fifteen. But sure!" she shrugged cheerfully, "oh, and if you end up needing anything just holler for me in the room down there," she waved at a door down at the end of the dining hall, which he guessed led to the washroom, "anything for a friend of Judy."

"Thanks," he murmured, surprised, but she was already walking away with a wave of the mug she bore.

Nick shoved his hands in his pockets as he found himself alone for the first time in several days, taking in everything at a much slower pace. The direction she'd sent him in led to pleasantly furnished room, probably meant for entertaining a small number of guests (rather than the monstrous caverns needed to house her entire family).

Several paintings of cream-and-white and grey-and-charcoal ancestors were strung up on walls the color of a pleasant peachy-coral. A faint design of pastel flowers peeked out from behind the frames, and the room had a small skylight access to the upper flowers at the end of it. Braided rag rugs in shades of mint green covering the cream tile floor while matching ceramic lamps sat at elbow height, round and heavy at the bottom and tall at the top—much like bunnies themselves were.

He felt like he was in an Easter-Egg.

Nick plopped himself back into a plush salmon-toned couch—its cushions piled at the perfect height so that both small and medium-sized animals could sit without too much of a problem—and looked around one last time, observing an entertainment center, bookshelf, and aquarium (goldfish swam around dumbly in search of food).

Then pulled out his phone to check his notifications. Hopefully that would distract him from his own thoughts for a while.

He had about five different texts from Ben, making sure that they arrived safely while also forwarding him emoji-laden photos of an advertisement for an upcoming Gazelle concert. Buffalo Butt had sent one, reminding him of the date they were expected to return by. And there were two from Finnick—the first asking when they were next meeting to play poker, and the next swearing at him for not informing him that they were going to be out of town.

It was hard to take him seriously when he was just so very punt-able.

Like a soccer ball with teeth.

Nick smiled crookedly and sent a quick confirmation to the first, ignored the second, and was about to send a sarcastic reply to the third when the couch shifting behind his leg caught his attention.

A tiny charcoal bunny pulled out makeshift six-shooters (a set of carrots he'd shoved into his jean pockets, to match the over-large cowboy hat he'd clearly swiped from an older sibling), and pointed them both at Nick with deadly accuracy.

"Gimme all your cookie dough," he demanded, awfully fierce for a six-year old.

Looking around him to make sure that he was, in fact, the mammal being addressed, Nick blinked. Then smirked. Shifting slightly on the couch, he asked quite politely, "and to whom am I to write the cookies out to?"

The child blinked at the wording, trying to process, then jutted his 'weapons' out more insistently, "Bunny the Kit."

"B-Bunny the Kit?" the fox coughed out, trying to tamp down on the laugh rising in his chest, "don't you mean…Billy the Kid?"

He made a face. The same, _'What are you, stupid?'_ look that Nick might've given an adult when he was at that age, "I'm a _bunny._ "

"That you are. A very intimidating bunny, at that."

"I'm _not_ a goat."

"That is _also_ true."

"So I can't be a kid."

"Therefore you are, of course…"

"Bunny the Kit," said the child in all seriousness.

"Well, Bunny, I regret to inform you," he began with a false sigh, not regretting anything at all, "that I am a cop."

The kit pursed his mouth and blinked, "Judy's a cop. You can't be a cop." As though there was only one person allowed to be an officer at a time.

The fox smothered a laugh, "yes, I'm aware. But she's got to have a partner, doesn't she? Which makes me, of course…the Long Arm of the Law."

Taking in this new information, 'Bunny the Kit' peered at Nick fiercely, putting his 'guns' away and leaning in close to hop up on the adult's lap.

Nick, who'd had only a passing acquaintance with children in this age group outside of the day before (Finnick didn't count), waited him out as the boy patted his cheeks, feeling the nearly invisible whiskers there and staring down the vulpine's green eyes. Whatever it was that he found seemed to satisfy him, however, as the young bank robber grinned a gap-toothed smile.

"Only if you can catch me, Sheriff!"

One strong bunny-bound away and the child was off, scrabbling on the tile floor with all four limbs.

Nick stared after him a moment before his own grin began to build. Then, grabbing his badge from his pants pocket (for authenticity when he caught the little rascal), he dashed after him while slapping the thing on.

"Stop that rabbit in the name of the law!"

Giggles were his only reply and the chase was on, bunny against fox in the greatest chase the Wild West had ever seen.

~/~/~

Judy found that she was rather successful at pulling off The Walk of Shame.

The fact that she had hundreds of siblings eating, moving, chatting and arguing all around her in waves of course made it much easier to mask this fact. But nothing could have hidden her partner's bright coat or comparatively tall height.

Still, they had both managed to make light of the matter, and if her mother shot her a curious look at their lateness, Judy shrugged it off and asked her closest sibling to pass a large bowl of oatmeal her way.

Nick had momentarily seemed at a loss until almost magically a plate of scrambled tofu and blueberry pancakes slid in front of him, made especially for his eating habits. She didn't even have a chance to see _which_ of her relatives had done him this favor, as they turned away too fast for her to get a good look at them other than to say that it had been someone with amber fur.

The two of them chatted easily about the day's plans, what was expected of the family at the evening's event, and how they could help without getting in the way.

"Honestly, neither Mom nor Dad expect for us to do much," Judy admitted, "all those who've grown up and moved away are considered more guests than kids. So if we help lift a few heavy things, or corral the younger kits, then they'll be happy."

Instead the rest of the town would be expecting them to play a different role: that of 'tourist.' Other than the income found through farming and market days, the one time locals could make an extra buck was when out-of-towners visited for festivals and events. In Zootopia if things turned sour at one job then a mammal could always apply for another. It wasn't that simple in Bunnyburrow and, on the off chance that the harvest didn't turn out, their best bet was to sell what they could in the form of curios and then save that money for a rainy day.

Meaning that both Nick and Judy, as hotshot cops from the big city, were expected to provide financial support for the local economy.

She could tell by the look in her partner's eye that he would be on a mission to find something _truly creative_ for their superior officer.

Maybe even several 'somethings.'

She coughed into her paw in an effort to mask a laugh.

It was this same paw she found being grasped and pulled by her mother as soon as Judy had finished her last spoonful of Peaches-And-Carrots-And-Cream. The rest of the dining hall was slowly being emptied, those on dish duty claiming plates, bowls, silverware and cups, so the move was hardly noticed by more than a handful of her brothers and sisters. As for Nick, her partner only had time enough to blink blankly, unable to save her from such a determined thief as she was yanked into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind them.

The kitchen was one of the few parts of the house with access to the outside world. Following the entire length of the building, vaulted ceilings provided an airy atmosphere and light poured through rows upon rows of windows looking out into the back garden. This was to let the heat of cooking out during the hot summer months, the western location helped keep things cool during early-morning baking. In turn, each stove was connected to a set of pipes, used to heat both the tons of bathwater needed to wash a small army and the basement rooms below.

Currently the room was largely unoccupied—with exception of two adolescent sisters burning something way, _way_ down the line. Given the textbook that they kept referring back to Judy assumed that it was a failed summer school assignment.

The utter absence of bunnies made it the perfect place to find a little privacy among a household of over 300. Especially as they had an entirely separate room full of dishwashers and washing machines for those who'd drawn wash-up chores for the week. Leaving the kitchen devoid of kits, post-meal.

Judy barely even had the time to gasp before a vision of what she was to look like in her older years faced her, looking hesitant.

"Ouch, Mom! What was that for?"

The words came out with all the grace of a whiny teenager and immediately Judy told herself to _stop it_. Especially in light of her mother's wince.

It was a self-conscious, anxious action rather than a scolding one, and whatever the reason Bonnie Hopps had drawn her aside it wasn't to scold her. Meaning that she was still unaware that her daughter had woken up in bed with a fox, and for that the cop was grateful. After Nick's conversation this morning at the door, she'd belatedly realized that the door-knocker had been her sixteen-year-old sister, Sharon. While her parents knew about the sleeping arrangements, _who knew_ what conclusions the teenager had come to?! So there was some anxiety that she might receive a Talk on propriety and setting a proper example for her siblings.

"Judy, I…Sarah called me and let me know. I just wanted to make sure that you were doing okay."

 _Sarah? She didn't have a sister named Sarah. Oh, wait—_ Sarah. _Why would she have called Judy's Mo—?_

Steven. And Brittany. _The Wedding_.

The grey rabbit groaned as a memory of the day before rolled over her, complete with the pang of hurtful recollection. She's nearly forgot about it in the wake of her embarrassing morning, but now that her mom had brought it back up the sting was sharp and fresh.

Judy winced, "yeah, I'm okay, Mom. Don't worry about me."

Meanwhile, she was trying to forget that she'd even _heard_ about the wedding's existence.

"Well, I can't help doing that—I'm your mother, after all. But enough about me, how are you _truly_ feeling?" she gestured to her daughter's ears and with a start Judy realized that her tell-tale limbs had drooped.

 _Freaking ears, always giving her away._ She pinched the space above the bridge of her muzzle, feeling a headache coming on.

"I'm okay, really."

Bonnie's unmoving expression remained.

"Okay, so it _did_ hurt to realize that it was actually happening…that's definitely true," she finally admitted, "but I'm alright now. I, I mean, it still kind of stings a little, but Nick and I talked and…"

And that _had_ definitely helped. It had sanded the sharp edges of the pain down so that the anguish didn't cut at her chest nearly as much, the feeling somehow softer and less raw. It had been agonizing, but in the end it had felt good to let it out.

(Plus being held through the night had done a lot toward making it easier to endure.)

Feeling the heat burn up through her neck to her cheeks, Judy hastened the conversation in the hope that her mother wouldn't notice the red beneath her fur. It had always been easier for others to guess at her embarrassment than those with darker coloring. Sure, there was a layer of white fur there, but she'd always been self-conscious about it.

"You know what, it really was painful," she continued, willing to sacrifice some of the truth in order to move their talk along, "I've always had my dream, and that's been great. Well…a bit of a bumpy ride at first. But now that I'm respected for what I do it's been really nice," she hastened to explain.

The enthusiasm abruptly petered off as her true feelings continued rolling forward, "but I can't help but see all my peers get married off, or having kits and then feeling…"

"That there's something missing," her mother filled in quietly.

"Yeah."

Maybe it was a biological need for all rabbits to marry and procreate, but Judy sure hated the feeling that _someone_ should be by her side by now…arms linked…warm and loving and kind.

Which didn't even begin to explain how her arms felt just…achingly _empty_ sometimes. When they were meant to be full…of tiny ears and noses, or even miniature fluffy tails.

The sad part was that it wasn't even that it was _Steven and Brittany_ who were getting married that was the problem at this point! Sure, it was a kick in the tail, but she'd started building a scab over that wound. Instead, the reason it hurt so much was that they represented yet another chance lost to her.

Arms hanging loosely to her sides, Judy stared at the tile floor, the neat little squares in teal and coral—her mother's choice—faded from their vibrant hues to a pastel shade by hundreds of tiny feet and over thirty years of marriage.

"Oh, sweetheart. I know that it's hard right now, but you just have to not give up and keep on being optimistic," she continued to explain, before wincing, "I am very sorry for not letting you know sooner, though."

"It's okay, I—," Judy abruptly pulled herself back as the words sunk in, "wait, you _knew_ about it?"

The guilty look on her mother's face was enough of an answer.

"You _knew?_ Why didn't you just tell me? _Before_ I came to visit, I mean, so that I could have had a breakdown _in private_?" she asked pointedly, crossing her arms and scowling. Bonnie had the grace to look a tad sheepish.

"Well," her mother said thoughtfully, "for purely selfish reasons, I guess—I didn't want the knowledge to keep you from coming. You visit little enough as it is."

When her daughter shot her a look— _her own_ trademark look—Bonnie shrugged.

"You _did_ ask, and it's the truth. But that aside, I was hoping that perhaps you'd find some closure. A chance to say goodbye to what might have been, and to look forward to other…opportunities," she nodded to herself, pacing as she spoke, "anyway, I remember what good friends you were in school and I just don't want you to lose that in the wake of the heartbreak you've felt. Plus Steven doesn't have much support at home, and you know how Brittany is, so I was hoping that you'd be willing to go to their—Judy, _please_ , don't give me that look," she added when her daughter huffed in frustration and continued her pacing, paw to her forehead.

"You want me to _go to_ _their wedding?!_ " The idea was absolutely, no holds barred, _ludicrous!_

"Yes, yes I do! Or at least the reception, anyway. I was hoping that you might give the idea a chance."

"Are you forgetting that he broke my heart? _Twice?_ "

"Yes, but it's been _months_ since then!"

She was actively pacing now, and their shouted conversation was starting to attract the gaze of her two younger sisters. Upon seeing their heads (and ears) pop up in her direction Judy scowled and turned her words into hisses, " _Mom!_ I can't _do_ this. I'll—I'll have a nervous breakdown! I can't face them, I really can't."

"Bun-Bun, you know that's not true. Your ability to forgive far surpasses their ability to hurt you, and you know it. It's the right thing to do, it really is."

"But what if I don't want to?"

Bonnie's gaze was sympathetic. It was the same expression she'd used before ripping off band-aids and pulling out baby teeth when their owners refused to do the deed, "when has Officer Hopps ever turned away from something difficult when she knew that it was right?"

"Well, there's always room for firsts," she grumbled.

"Bun-Bun!"

Violet eyes clashed with violet but her mother held out. Judy knew as the stare-down continued that she had already lost.

"Moooooom, _please_. I really don't want to."

"But you're going to."

The staring contest continued for several more minutes.

The cop huffed, "fine, but I'm not staying for long. And I'm bringing Nick."

"The invitations say to bring a plus-one. That should be acceptable."

When Judy went back to staring at the ground, lip petulantly sticking out and arms folded, her mother gave in enough to sigh heavily.

"Look, I know that I am being harsh. And you're a grown doe—you have every right to put your foot down, rather rapidly, on this matter. But before there was anything between you and Steven, you were _always_ friends. All through school! I don't want you to lose what few friends you have. Nick seems like a pretty friendly mammal—."

Judy snorted. Her mother had no idea.

"So he's probably not lacking for companions. But you've always been on your lonesome. And you can't burn a bridge like that, especially in such a small town as Bunnyburrow. You'll have to face them eventually—as a married couple—and if you don't do it now then…then you'll have to explain to Steven in person _why_ you didn't come to his wedding."

She couldn't help wincing at that thought. Okay, so maybe her mother was on to something…

"Bun Bun, do you ever wonder why your father and I pay so much attention to what goes on in your life?" realizing the way that probably sounded, Bonnie continued on, "of course, we do much the same with your brothers and sisters, as well, but there's a difference."

Still somewhat petulant, Judy shrugged, expression mulish and arms folded, "I dunno. I mean, I thought it was kind of weird how much time you spent with me…especially when there were so many of us. You definitely told me 'no' a lot."

That resulted in a chuckle from her mother, "that's true enough," then Bonnie drew in a deep sigh, "well. There is a reason for it. From the moment you were born you've always been different. There's been a _spark_ of something in you that glows just a little brighter. You give everything your 100% and, well, your father and I have always worried that someday you might give your all…and get nothing in return. Then your spark would dim, and we just couldn't quite bear to see that happen. Sooo…"

Rising, she began to quietly pace, paws clasped together, "we tried to warn you. About the way the world worked, and how…how much it would hurt to fall from such tall heights. But nothing we said seemed to stick, and you managed to bounce back from every setup you were faced with. Even being a Meter Maid didn't phase you!"

 _Well, not for long, anyway_ , Judy mentally amended. Although royally messing up the entire city had certainly humbled her…

"But this thing with Steven…it's really hit you hard. Everything else in your life has just been an obstacle—you can hop over obstacles and climb mountains. But you can't change someone else's heart. Which can be incredibly painful—I know," she admitted, "but I don't want it to get in the way of any future relationships you might have. Where you might become so worried about being hurt that you don't end up dating at all."

"Plus, I…might've started hoping," she continued.

Judy's frown softened as her mother spoke, "hoping…what exactly?"

"Well…"

"Just say it, Mom," she muttered, massaging her temples.

"Well, you and Nick have become rather close lately. Who's to say that can't develop into something more?" she said without any expression at all.

Several minutes passed as Judy tried to process. First words. Then meaning…

"Mom! He's my _partner!_ " she burst out, ignoring the heat which shot to her cheeks. It was a good thing that the news of them waking up together had never gotten to her mom, "that totally goes against employee non-fraternization policies!"

Bonnie rolled her eyes at the immediate defense—by the book, _as always_. Her reply was dry, "well, if _that's_ the only problem would it really be so bad to be put with a different partner?"

"I _like_ Nick as my partner— _I don't want a new partner!_ " she declared, feeling like she was grasping at straws.

"And what if _he_ wants to be more? To maybe be a _marriage_ partner?" Bonnie asked with deliberated pointedness, and Judy was abruptly reminded that she wasn't her oldest daughter, nor was this her first time, 'guiding' her children to romance.

Suddenly it all clicked! THIS! _This_ was the reason that her mother had invited them, the reason for her sister's out of character behavior! It was why her mother had been acting strange and deliberate, and the reason for her father's discomfort. Bonnie Hopps had been planning on pairing up Nick and Judy from the very start! And somehow managed to hustle her partner into helping set up his own trap, to boot!

Well, Judy wasn't going to get manipulated if she could help it! Not to fulfill her mother's insatiable desire for grandkits! (The policerabbit pointedly ignored the fact that if _that_ was her mother's end goal then she was hopping down the wrong burrow.)

"Mom! We're different species!"

"So? Lenny Lemingford's parents are two different species, and you grew up just fine with him."

"His parents are a _hamster_ and a _guinea pig_ , Mom. It's a _slightly_ different situation."

"All I'm saying is that you shouldn't write him off," she continued placatingly, like water on a burn, "in any case, imagine seeing their faces when you walk in with him as your date. That's _definitely_ not the appearance of a bunny scorned."

She turned away, "Mom…just stop. Okay? He…I…Nick is _not_ going to be my rebound, nor will he be a 'My Best Friend's Wedding'-esque date. Real life doesn't work like Julia Rodentz films," no matter how much she wished that it did, "he's just here to support me, so don't drag him down into your machinations. Now. Can I go save Nick from my siblings, _please?"_

"More than likely he's managing them far better than your father ever has," she responded smoothly, "a good sign of future fatherhood if there ever was one, Bun-Bun."

Judy just growled and left the kitchen.

But it was just as her mother had predicted—a litter of kits piled into the smaller parlor with Nick in the midst of them, a familiar battered copy of, "So Many Bunnies" in his paws.

"Now, see, _that one_ is going to make a good role model someday," the words were whispered from behind her.

"Well, he's definitely _conned mammals_ into thinking that he's a father a time or two," Judy responded, arms folded and hip cocked.

"C'mon, Bun-Bun. You can't tell me that you don't see it?" the words were crooned in her ear, and despite herself the cop felt her shoulders drop.

It really was…well, cute, for lack of a better word. He'd landed himself among some of the youngest kits, each child avidly watching his expressions as he read the book out loud. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he was bright spot of red among a wave of pastel yellow and amber and light grey. A couple of the kits echoed his pose, upright and avid, while others were lying on their bellies, legs kicking back and forth in the air. Every now and again whispers or giggles ran through the bunch, largely influenced by how expressive Nick was.

If anything he was showing himself to be more patient than several of her brother-in-laws and even herself combined!

And it was, well, really sweet. Fatherly, even. She could imagine a little fox sitting in his lap, turning the pages for him as his Nick's voice rumbled in his chest. Or a little doe, grey and adorable, climbing over one of his shoulders to tuck herself under his chin…

If anything it was TOO easy to see him as a father.

But that could be just her mother's thinking influencing her.

~/~/~

By the time Judy and her mother's tête **-** à **-** tête finished, Nick's chase had resulted in a collection of several more young kits, summoned by the power of squealing laughter. He'd somehow morphed from a sheriff to a terrorizing Foxzilla before they all settled into a collapsed pile of tall ears and one long fluffy tail. Until, that is, someone managed to unearth a tattered board book and Nick found himself surrounded by a circle of fluff while reading in rhyme.

" _9 was named Ike. He slept on his trike. 10 was named Jane. She slept in the lane_ ," he said while flipping to the next 'page' of the aptly titled, 'So Many Bunnies,' book. Both an effort at teaching numbers and the alphabet simultaneously, it was a creative take on the old woman living in a shoe tale.

But he had to question some of the kits' sleeping places.

" _11 was named Kate. She slept on the gate._ Has anyone here _actually_ slept in a gate before, the way she's doing here?" he couldn't help asking, pointing to the image of a patchwork rabbit balancing within the heart-shaped cutout of a wooden swinging gate.

A couple of the younger kits looked at one another before raising their paws.

He coughed and nodded. Touché.

"Aaaaalright then. Apparently it's more common than I realized," then flipped the page, " _12 was named Link. He slept in the sink._ "

It continued much like this, soft little heads balanced on tiny little paws. Every now and again he caught one of the tikes mouthing the words along with him. Nick guessed that this was a family favorite, if the overly taped spine and shredded edges were anything to go by. Despite familiarity, however, all sixteen of them seemed enthralled, and the fox found himself…well, warming up to his little bunch. They watched him with the innocence of children, not one of them thinking about the fact that they were essentially piled on top of their natural predator.

Affection warmed his chest as, unknowingly, Nicholas Wilde's entire expression softened, making eye contact again and again with each kit as he read on. And somehow it seemed perfectly natural to start speaking more dramatically, to lean forward as he spoke directly to his listeners.

With this many young friends, it took him a moment to register the familiarity of one bundle of light brown fur and matching brown eyes, but once he did he couldn't ignore the lurch in his heart followed by a wave of warmth.

Cotton. Judy's niece had joined them and was now watching him from the vantage point of her raised couch cushion, arms wrapped around it as she gazed at him with wondering eyes.

Well, it seemed that he wasn't so scary after all.

Clearing his throat against the choke threatening to silence him, the fox blinked rapidly as he flipped yet another page. He couldn't tear up now—he had a job to do.

Soldiering through the rest of the book as a true police officer should, Nick was nearly to the end by the time he noticed two more adults entering the fray. They stood against the wall, watching the huddle while talking quietly to one another. Judy looked petulant at best, but Bonnie Hopps—the true head of the clan, Nick had been quick to observe, and cooler head of the married duo—wore the self-satisfied smile of a mother at the helm. The confidence oozing from her made him shiver in slight fear, reminding him of his own mother at her most terrifying:

He recalled the time she managed to trick him into taking his dateless cousin to the prom, so that she wouldn't have to face it alone.

Or that time she'd found his growing stash of poker money from school, neatly donating the lot of it at a PTA fundraiser event for wheelchair-bound mammals. All under the name, "Rebelle Childe."

And the "I Told You So" look she'd given him after spying the buzz-cut his tail was sporting one sunny day after scamming the wrong tiger out of his best baseball card.

It was one of _those_ kinds of looks.

Paired with the way Bonnie was leaning back against the kitchen doorframe, the two of them reminded him of a scene from an all-feline cast of _Hamlet_ that he'd snuck into once.

" _Everything the light touches is our kingdom…one day the sun will set on my time here, and will rise with you as the new king."_

Judy didn't seem too enthused with whatever it was her mother was _really_ saying. He'd have to ask why when they no longer had a crowd of eavesdroppers.

As he was musing on this the mother rabbit pulled out an older iCarrot model, taking a photo. Nick instinctively shifted so as to give her his good side. Hearing his partner scoff, he smirked.

Judy waited until story time was finished –all the way to Zed, who apparently slept on the shed on a regular basis while managing not to fall off—then she was shooing bunnies off of him. It wasn't until that moment that he realized both his legs and tail had fallen asleep, victims to sitting on a barely-cushioned floor while children leaned on top of them.

"So, do you think that you've had enough of us yet?" the rabbit cop asked, smirking as she gave him a paw. He grimaced as he took it, gingerly using her as a crutch while he tried to shake the limbs back to life.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," Nick returned, his paws now on her shoulders, the two of them eye to eye and grinning. Behind them there was the click of another photo as Bonnie laughed and walked away. Only then did he realize what this must look like, leaning over her smaller form as he worked at getting feeling back into his toes, their faces nearly even.

The fox yelped as his support abruptly moved away, falling to his knees.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"Oh! Cheese and crackers, I'm sorry Nick!" she was immediately contrite, but that didn't change the fact that she was maintaining her distance, nose twitching and ears out of control as they didn't seem to know which direction to point.

What in the _world_ had they talked about in that kitchen of theirs?! Her ears were being twisted around wilder than the antennae of an old television set!

"It's—it's fine. Just give me a minute there, Carrots."

Finally she seemed to get over whatever was bothering her enough to walk over and brace him up as he stood once again. Close in proximity, he could see her nose twitch rapidly and wondered…

Did she know? Had she guessed what had almost happened that morning? If so he would've guessed that her parents were already packing up his things as they spoke. But the only incriminating thing going on that day was Bonnie tagging his face on Furbook as they spoke.

Still, Judy seemed to hesitate, "hey, Nick?"

"Yeah, Carrots?"

"Can I talk to you outside?"

"Um, sure?"

Following her down the hallway and out the building, she led him a healthy distance from the home, until motioning him under an old oak tree facing the road. Judy sat down, then sighed as he took his place at her side.

"So…what's up?"

She stared out across road to the fields beyond the borders of her family farm, quiet for several minutes as she lost herself in thought. Then, still facing forward, she muttered, "my mom wants me to go to the wedding."

He nearly choked, "what? You're yanking my tail again, aren't you?" Nick drew the offending limb forward, "you can't go to that. It's like…the worst version of a high school reunion."

"Basically," she muttered. Then sighed, "but my mom is right about one thing—I do need closure."

True enough. He nodded, mentally starting to concede.

"Plus if you don't face them now then you'll have to face them later—when they're about to have kits or something. And that's just cruel," he said as that dilemma also came to mind.

"Thanks, Nick, for that mental image," Judy said dryly.

"Anytime. That's what I'm here for."

The two sat in silence for minutes more before he abruptly sighed, leaning back against the tree behind them with paws behind his head, "looks like we have no choice, do we?"

"Choice?" her nose wrinkled in puzzlement, "what are you talking about?"

"Judith Laverne Hopps," his muzzle slowly turned to face her as he enunciated each careful word. His little bunny best friend blinked in surprise, "I think that it's time."

"Time for what, Nick? And cut the dramatics, already."

"You can't walk in there empty-handed, your heart broken and ears drooping."

"What is it with everyone watching my ears droop?!"

"You have to be the rabbit with the plan. The cutest powerhouse cop in the city."

"Don't call me cute."

Ignoring her command he straightened up, thumping one fist against his chest, "it's time to use your secret weapon. It's time…"

"That I become your decoy boyfriend."

~/~/~

AN: Hey all! A lot has happened recently. Firstly, my 30th Birthday happened over here back in March. Congrats to me—I'm "old" and freaking awesome. Booyah! ;-) I have a couple of friends that are freaking out at reaching that age, but I'm honestly pretty excited. I feel like a lot of wonderful things will be accomplished this year. ^^ (Including finishing this fanfic. XD )

Speaking of, it looks like as of this month Forks has reached it's 1 year anniversary! I was hoping to finish it by the end of May, but it looks like it may be closer to June. Which is alright. :) We are still in the home stretch. Only a couple more chapters to go.

I hope that you enjoyed Bonnie's shenanigans. She's a wonder.

Honestly, a lot of my own periodic musings went into this chapter, and I hope that those details don't get in the way of the overall story. If they do…pay little attention to those details, because Judy's too optimistic for it to truly get her down, and I think that it's only when in conversation with her mother that all the subconscious thoughts are unearthed and come out in waves. Otherwise she's fairly happy overall. :)

"So Many Bunnies," is a real book. I love it, I do. You can find it on Amazon. :)

AND THERE WAS SO MUCH FLUFF! :D I hope you enjoyed that, because I definitely enjoyed writing it. ;) And then Nick's cheesiness at the end made me laugh.

'Steven' and his wife have had a baby by this point, and it's freaking adorable. :) But I won't say more than that. Cheers.


	7. No Partner But You

**Forks**

By Shahrezad1

Summary: "Oh, I'll be fine. I don't feel like murdering him with a fork or anything. Much. I'll get back to you in the morning." Judy receives another grim reminder that she's single. Nick tries his best to help, in his own way. Based on a true story.

Disclaimer: Pffft, as if I own anything Disney-related. I don't even own the puns I use as currency!

This chapter's theme music: _Save the Last Dance For Me_ , by The Drifters.

 **P.S. There's a lot of fluff in this. You've been warned. ;-)**

~/~/~

 **Chapter 7: No Partner But You  
**

 _"To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love."_

-Jane Austen, _Pride and Prejudice_

 _ **Previously:**_

"It's time to use your secret weapon. It's time…that I become your decoy boyfriend."

~/~/~

"We have to set some ground rules, first," Judy muttered the minute they escaped.

It had been a bit touch-and-go for a while. Not long after he had declared his intentions to her the whole of the family had been rounded up in preparation to go to the festival.

It was probably the closest he would ever get to participating in a parade, Nick decided. Well, aside from the times the precinct had been invited to be part of an event or two, rather than just directing crowds. Still…it had been an Event, with a capital 'E.'

They had taken three cars, went in four waves, with an equal distribution of mammals-to-produce in each vehicle. (Excluding those of her married siblings, who had their own vehicles and thus escaped early.) A couple of her brothers had set up the booth that morning, so by the time Nick and Judy arrived all was ready to go.

Somehow, despite everything, they'd found themselves thrown together in the end. He had a feeling her mother had something to do with it, but he couldn't put his paw on exactly how. In any case, the end result was Nick finding himself with armful of warm grey fur, tucked snugly beneath his chin, while being thrown into the back of her parents' truck. Turnips surrounded them on the sides they weren't hedged in by bunnies, creating a kind of buffering effect.

He'd had to fight the desire to envelop her more fully in his arms, Judy's scent surrounding him despite other interference. Twenty minutes stretched into a lifetime as his paws itched, the thicker pads of his digits catching every now and again on the fur just beneath the short-sleeved, pastel, green-plaid shirt she wore.

Just when he thought that he couldn't survive one more minute of torture they arrived, his partner and best friend jerking back into him for one brief, exhilarating moment. But it didn't appear to shake her like it did him, if the way she jolted away was any indication, hopping from the truck bed and to the straw-covered area sectioned off for parking.

Rather than have the festival among the streets of Bunnyburrow the town leaders had set up shop at the large fairgrounds nearby, Judy explained before they left. There was a large amount of open space for the large families, as married children and more cousins than she could count poured in for the holiday.

Still, the place looked almost like a bustling city from his perspective! Hovering a head above most of the crowd, he watched swarms of rabbits, prairie dogs, sheep, skunks, the odd mole, weasels, beaver, otters and any number of other mammals converge on a single point—a double-set of posts, bearing a heavy banner done up in simple red, blue, and green paint (hand-done, for that 'homey quality,' he thought with a smirk).

"There's a surprisingly large number of predators present," he observed. After grabbing a basket of vegetables apiece they walked toward the entryway and below the giant proclamation of, 'Happy Truce Day,' hanging above them.

"Well, they're farmers, too," at his quizzical look she explained. "Bug farmers. Where did you think Bugga Burgers came from?"

Still not understanding, he blinked at his companion.

She laughed and shook her head, loose ears tossed around from beneath her straw sunhat, "the lynx family walking in front of us, the Pawtersens, raise night crawlers, which are also used for the fish they catch and sell. That leopard family over there, the Leopolds, pay a small fee to walk with farmers when the soil is turned and they sift out all the bad bugs that destroy crops. Then there's those cheetahs—the Tailors—they raise bees," she paused to wave at the elderly matron smiling squintily at her from behind a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

"But they make honey, they don't actually harvest the bugs," she admitted with a shrug. "And during the summertime all the kits in the Burrow help those wolves over there—the De La Luna family—comb their patch of the forest for insects that hide under logs and things. So that we can have extra cash for movies and dates and the carnival that comes by every year."

She explained this all rather matter-of-factly.

"Everyone helps one another here. And then when everything's been harvested they send it off to plants to be processed. My family does the same thing with the produce they don't sell at market or use to feed all the kits. It goes into canned food and supermarkets all over Zootopia."

Taking all this in, the Fox scratched his cheek absently, the other arm wrapped around a bushel of carrots, "I didn't realize…"

Judy laughed and patted his shoulder, for a moment stumbling a tad closer than she'd intended before stepping back. She tried to cover the blunder with a smile, "food's got to come from somewhere."

After navigating to the Hopps family booth, setting up shop, and leaving the rest to her siblings, Nick found himself drawn into the world surrounding him.

It was noisy, it was colorful, and it was all things he'd never experienced before. Even the air was filled with warring smells, from cotton candy to verdant grass. Everything and anything fascinated him—from the hay stacks surrounding the festival booths, to the homemade curios being sold, then on to the variety of mammals present.

He stared at the way the children played—running, jumping, dodging between adult legs without either a digital device in hand or a specific parent in sight. In the city it seemed like there was always that worry that someone would snatch a child up off of the street, but here there was an implicit sense of trust among the various families.

He also couldn't help blinking rapidly at the wide array of vegetables, deserts, pies, insects barbecued on a stick, and rows of beverage booths. Several barrels of root beer, amounting to the size of a small swimming pool, steamed off to one side in a haze of frothing white clouds while fireworks and sparklers were being sold across the way.

Off to the far, FAR left, in the fields surrounding the main thoroughfare, families were already setting up blankets and chairs in preparation for the fireworks which would come, handing out glow-stick necklaces and staking their claim until the whole field looked like one giant patchwork blanket.

A church booth sold bibles for a dollar and asked for donations. But its solemn presentation was belied by the way the Father, a grey-haired bull, laughed as he watched a dunking booth set up parallel to it—far enough away to avoid the splash but close enough that the near-sighted fellow could lean on his elbows in order to see, his horns brushing the sign above him. Further down the path a kissing booth had been set up, teenagers taking full advantage of their interest in one another, plus a ring toss and fishing game set up for the youngsters, complete with prizes.

It was anything anyone could have wanted from a small town event, and despite how he'd been trying to play it cool Nick could feel the excitement itching under his skin, having only ever seen things like this on TV. Frankly, it was all one new, amazing experience.

Nick couldn't help hoping that she would allow him to soak it in for a little while longer, but knew that probably wouldn't happen. He'd pulled his 'Fake Boyfriend' ploy out of a hat, but knowing Judy she would want to plan the thing to death, deciding the hows and whys and whens of their 'relationship.' So Nick would just have to pay the consequences for meddling.

He just wanted to keep on pretending that it was the real deal. That every time they held hands or walked side-by-side or shared a cup of soda it was because they really wanted to do it—as _real_ a couple.

But that may have been too much to ask for.

At least the slight deviation from their usual behavior wouldn't send her siblings' tongues wagging. By this point the kits were largely occupied with meeting up with friends and enjoying the wonders of the festival—the novelty of Judy and Nick as a duo had worn off, so anything they did that might seem 'dating-esque' would be largely overlooked by the children and teens.

It was the rest of the town that they would have to sell it to.

"I'm glad to see that you're enjoying yourself," Judy remarked with a smile, then sighed slightly. "But I really need you to pay attention to me here, Partner."

Tearing his eyes from the booth in front of him, complete with tennis balls and old fashioned milk bottles, Nick gave her his best conman smile, "of course, my dear Carrots. Whomever said I stopped?"

"Riiiiight," she said with a smirk. "Okay, if anyone asks, we go by the usual story of how we met—the _truth_ —sort of, anyway. But for the dating stuff, we say that we live in the same building, and that carpooling and working as cops and spending time together naturally led to dating and then—."

"Or we could just play it by ear," he suggested, flicking one of his as he shoved both paws in his pockets.

"We could _totally_ do that," she said with fake enthusiasm. "And then have _completely different_ stories to contend with. Defeating the whole purpose of this charade." If he noticed her dig at his idea he ignored it. Which was probably for the best, given her prickly mood.

"So we'll just…stay by each other's side the entire evening," he offered, not looking perturbed in the least. He tried to keep the comment casual, hands in pockets, as though he was doing her a favor by playacting at being her boyfriend.

"Nick, that's not realistic and you know it."

Moving toward a stand full of little wooden figurines—a carrot with legs, arms, and a disarmingly disturbing grin. He wondered if the Carrot Of Evil was the town's mascot or something—Nick shrugged, "I dunno. There's quite a few couples that I know who can't seem to unglue themselves from each others' sides."

She followed him absently, sighing as she picked up a carrot-styled wristwatch. The band was made from woven bark fibers and dyed in a shade of rust. "True. But how 'in-character' would it be for _us_ to do that?" Or just _her_ , anyway. He could read between the lines.

He shrugged again. "Well, at least show me around for a bit, will you? I'm lost in a sea of rabbits here, and as much as I like—."

"As I live and breathe! If it isn't Judy Hopps!"

His partner froze, her paw outstretched to pick up a clay mug that was actually half-pretty, the orange and brown swirls on it reminiscent of…something orange and brown swirling together. But she never actually got to examine the knickknack as he felt more than saw a tap on her shoulder, and then they were turning as one to face the music.

~/~/~

 _By all that was Growing and Good, why couldn't it have been_ ** _anyone else_** _?_

The thought was immediate and horrified, and didn't settle her stomach's lurch any. But they had to start somewhere, and she was…well…

"What are you doin' here in Bunnyburrow? I thought you'd given us up for good for that Zootopia ideal you were always spouting about."

She was the one mammal Judy hadn't wanted to run into, other than Steven and Brittany themselves.

Judy forced a neutral expression onto her face with some effort, paws behind her back to disguise how they were curling into fists. Nick observed this sudden change of appearance with quickly masked concern, blinking once at her and then once toward the oncoming couple.

Taking a cue from his partner, he opted for a casual stance—hands out of his pockets, as she'd pointed out once how lazy that looked to her parents' generation, but nothing so defensive as folded arms. Instead he hooked them in his belt loops, loose and at ease.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" she remarked with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, resisting the urge to move back closer to the table behind her. "Nick, these are Steven's parents. Mr. and Mrs. Harrison, this is my partner, Nick Wilde."

Which explained quite a bit without saying much, she thought.

He appeared to agree, straightening slightly so as to emphasize his height, looming slightly in order to take another analyzing look at the portly couple. Before he could stretch out a paw for shaking, the missus threw her first punch.

"I was also her guidance counselor in school. Never did listen to my advice, nope she didn't," she stated with a steely frown that didn't match her fluffy brown visage. Mr. Harrison didn't appear to have anything to say about the matter, himself, except to take advantage of the awkward pause in conversation to clean his gold-framed spectacles.

Judy could tell that Nick wasn't quite sure how to proceed—not for lack of commentary, but out of indecision as to _which_ type of commentary he should go for: sarcastic or _super_ -sarcastic.

She forced a laugh.

"I appreciate your concern as you tried to… _guide_ my future. All seven times you called me into your office Senior year," on top of the number of times she'd confronted Judy during her Sophomore and Junior years.

At her side, one bright fox ear ticked her direction. "But as I already knew what I wanted to do with my life, it seemed pretty clear. Even the aptitude test that I took said that I should become a cop," she offered as a slight peace offering.

Mrs. Harrison didn't take it.

"Aptitude tests have no bearing on common sense," Mrs. Harrison said flatly, her paws planting themselves on her hips. "Now, if you'd just become a farmer—of even one of those, what do you call 'ems? Pharmacists?—Like I suggested, _well!_ Then it wouldn't be _Brittany_ on all those wedding invitations I had to send out, would it!"

Judy's mouth dropped involuntarily, and she didn't have to look up to know that her partner was glaring down on them all.

Mr. Harrison had the grace to look embarrassed by his wife's bald-faced declaration, but still he remained silent.

Judy wasn't sure how to respond. Half of her was offended in her own name. For all that she had made the connection on her own—especially during late-night wallows, paired with ice cream—that her occupation may have ostracized her from any potential bunny match, it was quite another thing for it to be coming out of _this does's_ lips—the same rabbit who'd sneered at her for four years from behind an office desk, muttered negative comments every time Judy went over to Steven's burrow to work on a project or watch a movie, and made a point of lamenting the cop's lack of homemaking skills to Judy's mother whenever they ran into each other at the supermarket or local library—made it a betrayal.

On the flip side, the cop couldn't help being offended in _Brittany's_ honor. It was true, she hadn't expected for her and Steven to get together, what with the personality differences. But she didn't deserve to be treated this way by her future mother-in-law. Especially the day before their wedding! They would find very little support on his side, she imagined, a terrible prospect given Bunnyburrow's tradition of families working together to set up new couples.

With a start Judy suddenly realized just why her mother had been insistent on her attending the wedding reception—because there was a good chance few others would.

" _Plus Steven doesn't have much support at home, and you know how Brittany is, so I was hoping that you'd be willing to go..."_

For the first time in months she was grateful that she wasn't the one about to marry into the Harrison family, if _this_ was to be the end result.

But her burst of thought and realization had gone on too long, the rabbit realized, and Mrs. Harrison's expression morphed into something sickeningly triumphant. She swallowed, searching for something to say—.

"I have to admit that I'm actually pretty grateful things didn't work out."

Judy blinked rapidly, as did her nemesis, when the words were spoken. Mr. Harrison coughed.

Then Nick was reaching down to grasp her around the waist, lifting the bunny slightly up and flush against his side. Judy blushed at the contact, visible even beneath the fur.

"If Judy hadn't become a cop we never would have met, and I wouldn't have the chance to fall in love with her beauty," the words were said with a debonair air, his stance confident and eyes half-lidded. "She changed my life, so call me selfish, but I'm grateful."

The whole thing was almost more than she could handle, her nose taking in his scent and heart pounding away as she was pressed up against him, her shoulder to his chest and each hip against slouchy hip. His athletic form was even more toned after months on the force, if that was possible, which she tried not to think about too much.

To explain her flustered state she said, "it's a recent thing. Did I forget to mention that Nick and I are also dating? Our friendship, ah, just… _grew_. Into something more. Isn't that right, Nick?"

"Yeah, but we've cared about one another for a while now, haven't we _Judy?_ " The full use of her first name, as well as the warm, fond tone he spoke in, made the female look up in surprise. As she did violet met green, his sincerity clear in his honest gaze.

It was true. It really was. Hustle or no hustle, they cared about one another. She relaxed beside him, patting his stomach gently—what she could reach of it.

Then she said, more to herself than the lagomorph pair in front of her, "yes. We've been close for a long time."

After giving her companion a cheek-to-cheek smile, the grey cop finally turned back to the couple, Mr. Harrison looking dumbfounded and his rotund wife was not-so-quietly fuming.

She was ready to leave by that point, having already proven that she wasn't alone—or lonely— _thankyouverymuch_. But Nick never could let an opportunity slide.

He clasped her tighter, his paw against her ribcage like it was meant to be there. Judy blinked.

"Congratulations on your son's wedding, by the way. His name is… Stan, right?" said the fox in his best smooth, peanut butter voice.

"Steven," the male rabbit corrected with a twitch of his whiskers. As well as something a bit like a smile. It was the first thing he'd said that day. His mate, however, was looking less amused. Her fluffy, chocolate fur was gaining volume, if that was possible, and her hazel eyes had become chips of amber.

Like the two of them were a math problem.

Bunny plus fox equals _disaster._

What Mrs. Harrison did instead was wave a slender paw at the sign leaning against a nearby family booth, one of the biggest and loudest ones of the bunch. It bore an open invitation to the wedding in bold letters, Brittany's name only slightly smaller than her future spouse's, "his name is _right there_."

Nick turned, moving his hand to his coworker's shoulder in the process, and made a show of being shocked. "Why, so it is! I do apologize—I must not have seen it. I was probably too busy looking at _Judy_ here to notice. Isn't that right, _Darlin'?"_

The sudden request for confirmation made her startle and flush, "oh. Ah. Yeah, Nick."

He looked down at her with a concerned frown, but beneath eyelids at half-mast his gaze was gleeful, "what's a matter, _Snug-a-bunny?_ You seem a little shy today."

Her lips tightened just enough that someone who didn't know her well would have never noticed. But Nick was not one of those people. Then the officer smiled, "oh, nothing, _Red_. You just know how I am with pet names."

He nodded sagely, tapping his chin with a single digit, "always professional, aren't you, my little _Honeybunny?_ I can't say the same for myself, but I couldn't be prouder of you. Top of your class. Precinct One. Recognized by the Mayor."

Okay, so he was laying it on pretty thick—and she wasn't sure if being recognized by _either_ mayor counted, given that they'd both been corrupt, _and_ she'd played into the latter's trap—but it had been a long time since they'd been able to pull a hustle on anyone. What's more, she was having fun now that they were on a roll, so Judy smirked back at him, practically bouncing on her overlarge feet. Until he spoke again—then she wanted to hit him.

"Although she's a closet romantic when you get down to it, aren't you _BunnyBaby?_ " he remarked, eyebrows raised and an unconcerned smile stretching from ear to ear.

 _Oooooh, he is SO totally getting smacked,_ was the thought that went through her rapid-fire mind.

All her little town had ever cared to remember about her was that 1. She was one of Stu and Bonnie's kits, and 2. Of them, she was that crazy one who wanted to become a cop. A life of mediocrity would have hidden her from view, but wanting to be different than her peers has effectively made her a social pariah—especially among her parents' and grandparents' generations. Romance was not what she was known for—hard work, dedication, and determination were. That was how they saw her—one dimensional. To give any one or two of them any other view of her other than the hardened shell she'd created was to invite speculation and criticism; a crack in the wall, so to speak. Especially from _this set_ of elderly rabbits.

Although, given the fact that Nick had openly declared their 'dating' status, tongues were about to wag regardless. She was more than willing to go along with him when he was pulling a prank, especially in defense of her honor, but what Nick was trying to insinuate was a bit much.

"You could even say that she's the instigator in most-," his sentence was cut off with the sudden elbow to his ribs.

"If you equate cooking with romance," she filled in smoothly, with a serene smile. "This guy can't cook worth a darn."

 _Fair point_ , the thoughtful twitch of his left ear said.

Steven's mother, the doe who had once demanded the PTA reject Judy's offering to a bake sale on the grounds that a rabbit who had so rejected their way of life couldn't _possibly_ make a carrot cake worth eating, blinked, " _cooking?_ You mean to tell me that _you_ eat _his_ food?"

She made it sound as though that was even worse than the fact that they were in a 'relationship.' Judy discreetly rolled her eyes as Nick coughed out his laugh.

"Foxes are omnivores, actually. I can eat anything a bunny can," he explained, expression and tone neutral as he spoke to the misinformed matron, years of bias leaving her assuming far too many things.

"Which is for the best, I think. I wouldn't want to turn off her family when we get to the point of a wedding, after all."

Nick smiled. It was all teeth.

Her blunted nails dug into his arm, but for his part he showed no sign of sustaining injury.

Still, the damage had been done. The gentleman rabbit's eyes bugged out, large teeth coming into view as his mouth fell open. Mrs. Harrison had a possible career on the stage as a professional gasp-er. Judy imagined that she would be highly successful playing the part of the nurse from _Roarmeo and Juliet_ , or possibly Miss Possum from _The Importance of Being Earnest_.

Judy sighed slowly, letting the air out as she glared at her partner in crime. Rather than dignify his comment with _any_ sort response—she had a feeling that no matter _what_ she said he would find some way to dig them deeper into that lie of theirs—she chose to ignore it.

"Speaking of weddings, we look forward to seeing you both again tomorrow."

That comment seemed to shock them as much as anything else they'd said, and with gritted teeth the grey bunny smiled, made her excuses, and led her 'boyfriend' away from the ongoing disaster zone.

"I thought that went well," Nick remarked cheerily once they were out of range of long rabbit ears. She stamped down on his foot in response.

 _Hard._

Nick coughed, wincing, "I suppose I deserve that."

"Really? _Do_ you?" she demanded, rhetorically. A pause, then…

"Nick! I can't believe you! ARRRGGH!" she growled, pulling paws down her face in frustration. "Now the whole town's going to think that we're…you're…I…"

"Yes, _Judy-Honeybuns?_ Are you trying to say something?" he purred.

It was enough to set her off again, working past the tongue-tied state she'd found herself in while trying to discuss the idea of them being engaged…and liking it far too much. "Argh! Now they're all going to think that we're engaged! We agreed that this was a _boyfriend_ -lie, not a _fiancé_ -lie, remember?"

"Oh, yes. Because that is _clearly_ going to make a difference in how much they judge you," he remarked dryly, pausing to pick a piece of straw out of his footpad. "Speaking of which, what a _grand_ example of bunnyhood is found in those two. I'm _definitely_ impressed."

She ignored his words, then punched his shoulder, " _Nick._ Having a fox for a boyfriend is one thing—if anything, those who know about Steven and I will just think that we're doing exactly what we're _actually doing_ —fending off the glums and trying desperately to prove that I'm not a lonely, old spinster who—."

She cut herself off as Nick abruptly looked at her seriously for the first time that day, his eyebrows lifted and a strange sort of sad tenderness coming from him. Her heart jolted at the look, and she sternly reprimanded her nose as it began twitching with increased speed.

"But that's beside the point," she hastily went on, furiously ignoring the heat that was warming her cheeks at the expression he was giving her now, as though he was about to pick her up in his arms and…well, actually, she could easily see him drawing her to his chest in public, given the track record they'd had so far, and if anything it would just support the farce they'd were hiding behind.

"Dating is one thing. If anyone _does_ take it at face value they'll just think that I'm trying to live on the wild side—no pun intended, _wipe that smirk off your face_ —but that ultimately I'll settle down and do what's 'proper' for a bunny. Give up the Force and become a homebunny. But engagement is serious, especially in a small town like Bunnyburrow. There's no going back on it. Not without becoming the main topic of conversation for the rest of your life."

The longer she was talking the less he seemed to be paying attention, sighing, rolling his eyes, and finally turning to lazily follow a dragonfly as it flew closer. If he was any other mammal she imagined that he would aim to catch a fly-by snack. But Nick was 100% city mammal—he liked his protein in tofu format. Nothing that once had eyes.

Judy was already far gone as realizations pounded into her like waves on the beach—paired with a horrifyingly intimate knowledge of her small town. True, Bunnyburrow was a safe place, content to keep on going as it always had. But folks' memories were as long as their ears were, here. Once you had a reputation it stuck around for life. And mammals weren't always kind in expressing their thoughts on the matter.

"People will take sides, and everyone will want to share their opinion, and then I'll get hit with questions and suggestions about the best place for cakes and dresses. I will end up _drowning_ in them, I swear. And then! When we 'break up' I'll become 'Poor Judy,'" she added, in paw-quotes, " 'Couldn't find anyone to marry her—not even a predator would take her.' Not to mention that the whole dynamic of predator-prey relationships in town will be thrown on their head _again_ , as everyone assumes that you, as a predator, probably broke my heart. And there'll be backlash all over, spilling into the lives of my predator friends and…I…I…"

Her words broke off, the arms she'd been waving dropping to her sides.

"…I can see that you are taking everything I'm saying _very seriously_."

This time around Nick had actively left her, trying to blow the bug out of its path while the dragonfly bravely attempted to soldier on. After she spoke he had the sense to at least pause, his left shoulder lifting in a half-shrug, too lazy to even remove his hands from his pockets, "Judy, is it really _that_ terrible to be engaged to fox?"

Okay, he was entirely missing the point! _That wasn't it at all!_

She didn't know how to respond, given that the concept sent a thrill through her in that moment—and it wasn't a _bad_ sort of thrill, either. She hastily shoved the feeling down.

"Besides, the mammals who matter the most know the truth," he went on.

"What?" the bunny stared at him in irritable confusion. All he did was point, and with a heavy sigh she followed the line of his finger.

Straight toward where Mrs. Harrison was confronting her mother and father on the matter.

"Oh no…" she groaned, paws dragging down her cheeks. But her companion's hypothesis proved correct.

Her father's reaction was to be expected—he stiffened, then jerked around in search for the fox in question. As for her mother, Judy could see one pretty eyebrow rise, but Bonnie Hopps remained serene. She responded with a smile, and strong-armed her husband into standing up straight beside her. From the angle they were at the two of them could even see her poke the bunny in the back—he stiffened and nodded, just once.

All this mystified Judy, but beside her Nick was chuckling, arms folded across his long torso.

"It looks like your Mom is willing to go along with the hustle. At least long enough to get everyone off your back and make a jab or two at them while she's at it. This 'Steven' must've really hurt you, Carrots, for her to just roll with it."

At the return of her well-worn nickname she looked up, brows still furrowed over a furiously twitching nose. Her best friend appeared relaxed and laid back, but there was an element of his expression—maybe the tightness of his smile, or the way he was watching the interaction in a not-quite-friendly way—that should have worried her. But it didn't—her mind was still stuck on his question:

 _Was_ it such a bad thing to be engaged to a fox? Or maybe it wasn't so much the engagement as the fact that it was _fake_ and she would have to deal with the fallout that distressed her?

She knew without a shadow of a doubt that if it had been a _real_ engagement then she would have taken on the naysayers and gossipmongers head-on, taking the bull by the horns, so to speak. Dealing with the repercussions wouldn't have worried her one bit. But maybe it was that she was going to have to deal with all of the stress and yet none of the happiness, all for the sake of her pride.

Being married to Nick _would_ be a happy thing, she decided in an instant. For all his hustling ways he was kind and loving. Anyone he married would be lucky to have him—they would find in him a relationship founded on friendship and trust (although much pranking). And should he ever have kits (she was captured by the thought, and couldn't quite understand why. Maybe it had to do with the the fixation she'd had lately regarding her own chances at becoming a mother?) there was no doubt in her mind that he would be an excellent father, never mind how she'd tried to brush off her Mom just that morning.

If anyone deserved that joy—it was him.

She just wished that he would give love a chance.

(Despite the fact that the idea of Nick being married to someone else made her heart hurt as much as Steven's actions ever had. Why was that? Shouldn't she be happy for him?)

With someone—a friend—like Nick in her life, who needed bucks like Steven?

Much less a town full of gossips that had never treated her right and never would. So what was she _really_ worried about?

"Yeah, he did," she answered the not-quite-question, "but it really doesn't matter."

Both eyes and a left ear swiveled toward her, "are you sure about that, Carrots?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," letting out a heavy sigh, she came to a decision, "Okay, Nick. We can do this…engagement ruse if you want. But let's at least _try_ to be consistent, can we?"

"Really?" he perked up far more than she would have expected at such a simple concession. Then again it wasn't often that she allowed him almost-free reign in a scheme of his. Not since their last time undercover, anyway.

A particularly vulpine grin graced his maw and in that moment she was reminded that foxes were seen as tricksters in many species' cultures. This was it. This, Exhibit A, was why. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, settling for a sigh.

"Then you don't mind being engaged to an old fox like me?"

"Well, I didn't mind ' _dating'_ one, did I?" she responded drily, "Engagement is just one step up from that. And if we're about to set the town on fire, we might as well do it 100%."

"Yes, Ma'am! We are definitely about the 100%," he saluted her smartly, and if he'd had his sunglasses in that moment she imagined that now would be the time to flick them smartly down upon his beaming cheeks.

"And once we're done with this chaos I can continue dreaming about death-by-forks. I might even add a couple more names to my list," she prodded him, both literally and figuratively. But even that couldn't sway the return of his good mood.

A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth, revealing a canine, "I see that we're back to murder via silverware."

The observation was made with some approval.

"Well, as long you clean up after yourself," he remarked, going along with it.

"No worries, there," she said. Then, more realistically, "and in the meanwhile I can at least trick all the Granny bunnies who said I'd never get married and become a proper buck's wife."

His expression was the very definition of wicked, "because you're the making of a proper _tod's_ wife."

She didn't know why her heart stuttered in her chest when he said that, but it did. Plus there was that strange hiccup in her stomach to contend with when she realized that Nick had somehow made it back to her, his arm around her waist.

"E-exactly!" Judy stuttered, then hip-checked him, "not being able to find the rabbit of my dreams makes perfect sense if the one I'm supposed to be with is really a fox, right? I've just been searching in all the wrong burrows."

He chuckled along with her, but something he saw over her shoulder caused it to catch in his throat.

"So…we're good with the fake engagement thing, right?" he made sure, tone neutral.

"Yes?" she was puzzled, "Didn't we just say that?"

"Just making sure. Because your parents are coming this way."

She'd almost forgotten. But then there they were, making their way over, and if that wasn't enough two of Judy's siblings were tagging along to witness their humiliation (with a third borne on her mother's back).

Bonnie smiled sweetly as the small group of Hopps family members meandered to the curio booth, gaze calm as she maintained her grip on her husband's arm. For his part he looked disgruntled. But not as though he was intending on launching himself down either of their throats, at least.

Nick's arm removed itself from her person…then slid back to grip her paw. She was surprised—both by the move and the fact that his palm seemed moist. She wondered for the first time if Nick was nervous and, if so, why? They were just pulling off a hustle, and the sooner her parents knew the truth the sooner they'd cut off the interrogation. Why should he be worried about what they thought?

"I just had a word with Mrs. Harrison," her mother began sweetly. She couldn't help noticing the omission of Mr. Harrison's name. "Is there something I should know, Judy?"

And her gaze _was_ knowing. With a flush Judy was reminded of their conversation in the kitchen. Suddenly she wanted this conversation to end as quickly as possible.

"Nick offered to be my date to the wedding," was what she opted to say, deciding in an instant that even the explanation of their scheme was more than she was willing to share, "and Mrs. Harrison took it to mean more than that."

Bonnie's lips quirked slightly at the admission. But it was Nick's words which arrested her attention, taking the step forward that she'd just pulled back on.

"We're enacting a hustle, Mrs. Hopps—."

"Bonnie."

"Bonnie. And when Mrs. Harrison took it upon her to question Judy's career and life choices, I may have taken it a bit too far. I apologize."

He sounded as sincere as he'd ever been in all the time she'd known him, and both Judy and her father blinked. But her mom just beamed.

"Good on you, Officer Wilde," she remarked.

Stu swallowed hard and nodded, spine straightening a full inch and a half, "that Mrs. Harrison—you'll tell me later what she said about our Jude."

It was more demand than request, but Nick agreed anyway, saluting him with his unoccupied paw, "of course, Sir."

~/~/~

Judy's siblings had soon after declared themselves bored, dragging her off with them to bob for carrots in a barrel that had been cut in half for their shorter stature. After a deliberate _look_ her way that he managed to catch (and wasn't he grateful that they'd been let off the hook with nothing more than _that!_ Especially if Judy's Mom started realizing that his feelings were more real than pretend) Bonnie Hopps led Stu off to check on their booth, leaving Nick to his own devices.

Which naturally tugged him in the direction of pie.

Sweet, _delightful_ pie.

He'd caught a glimpse—and a smell—right before the Harrisons bowled them over, and found himself irresistibly drawn back now that Judy wasn't there to reassure and distract. And if he couldn't be with her, then he might as well indulge in his second love.

Skittering and dodging through the crowded mass of fur the way only a fox could, Nicholas Wilde skidded to a stop before several long tables of pie, pastries, and freshly baked bread. Much of it had towels or domes overtop to keep away the bugs, but there were several glazed marvels that had been left out to cool in the early evening air. He wouldn't be surprised at all if this booth had been making a heavy profit since the early morning, as the animals around him set up shop.

Still, the fresh product was there, and Nick couldn't help bowing before the heavenly presence, green eyes alight with the many glorious creations, glazed with butter and dusted by sugar. Fruit glowed like rubies and deep amethysts from the window-like slits of their golden crowns, and as much as he was occupied with worshiping the table before him Nick found himself at a dilemma: which one should he try first?

From behind the stand a ferret smiled slightly at his open-mouthed amazement (careful not to drool on any of the product), her blues crinkling as she dusted her hands on her apron. But he hardly saw her or anyone else, fixated on his prize.

Which was why the booming voice presented right in front of him was such a surprise.

"Well, Ah'll be! Ah haven' seen 'nuther fox around this place since mah cousins came ter visit. Welcome to Bunnyburrow, friend."

The words were paired with a large, round paw presented for him to shake. Caught up in the glory of good food, Nick jolted in shock before slowly straightening, forcing his ears and tail to remain level.

He coughed. Then grasped the limb.

It belonged to a slightly rounded, jolly-looking fox at least a couple of years his junior. He had a thicker mop of orangey-red fur up top and wore a shirt the exact same shade of blue as his eyes.

 _What was it with these mammals and plaid?_ He couldn't help wondering.

"A pleasure. Nick Wilde."

If anything, the country fox's eyes seem to light up _more_ , "oh! Judy's partner from Zootopia. I 'eard 'bout ya on the news."

Well! At least _one_ mammal in this town approved of the two of them. Behind the baker, for he assumed that the 'Gideon' written on the side of the pink truck backed up along the length of the booth must be him, his ferret employee looked up with more interest, setting down the loaf she'd just started wrapping in paper.

He allowed his expression to become more congenial, hooking paws into his pockets, "the one and only! And you must be Gideon?" he waved a hand at the truck, making the other tod laugh.

"Ya must be sharp as a tack, feller. Tha's right—Ahm Gideon Grey. Well, any friend of Judy's must be som'in great. Here—pick a pie, on the house."

Well, who was he to say no to something like that? Maw wide in a grin, mouth watering, Nick picked his way through the delicious deserts before eventually settling on a mixed berry pie. His preference was blueberries, all the way, but that one looked too delicious to let go of.

"Are you…Mr. Wilde? From Zootopia?" the question had him looking down…and then down some more, at a tiny field mouse, her homespun dress a pale yellow pastel with what he imagined were pink roses embroidered on—from his standing they might as well have been pinpricks, but he couldn't ignore the fine hand that had made it. She carried a tiny basket on one arm and already had a miniature tart from Gideon's cart tucked into it, folded in a pink napkin.

The question required a pause out of him, and he respectfully kneeled in an effort to get closer to her level. She smiled at the gracious move, and in the corner of his eye he could see the other fox nod in approval.

"Why yes, Miss. What can I help you with, today?" his words were paired with his lightest tone, the one he usually saved for Mr. Bigg's daughter, eyebrows lifted and smile polite.

She giggled at the 'Miss' part and nodded to him in turn. "Well. I don't know if you saw me, but I was just at the Samson's booth—you know, the bison? With the carrot sculptures, so very clever of them to make. Well! I couldn't help but overhear that you and Miss Judy are engaged. Is that correct? Do I owe you my congratulations?"

Ah. Apparently news was catching on fast. Like wildfire, practically. Nick coughed, then put back on another of his gracious smiles.

"You are correct. But no congratulations are in order—it's a pretty new thing. And despite all my teasing, Judy's never been one for…people making a big deal about things, really."

She smiled knowingly as though this matched the image she had of his partner, and a part of him could feel his smile cracking with the effort it took to keep it pasted on.

'Mrs. Churchmouse,' as he'd come to think of her, reached out to touch his knee regardless, and said, "in any case, I wanted to wish you both well. You seem well-matched. I'm _so glad_ that she's finally found someone who can appreciate her for her true merit."

Which made the wince in his chest hurt all the worse. But he accepted the compliment graciously and asked if there was anything he could do to help her while he was in town.

"Thank you, no, but aren't you a polite fellow," she tittered, voice barely carrying. "But I'll make sure to let all my friends know that you offered. Thank you, Mr. Wilde."

"It was my pleasure," he intoned, bowing his head slightly until the diminutive matron had skittered away. Only then did he let his shoulders drop and release the sigh within him.

Then he stood back up for pie, knees creaking.

Gideon faced him dead on, jaw open and a plainly astonished look on his face. Behind him his ferret associate had paws covering her mouth, but even that couldn't hide her grin or the joy in her eyes. And then the fox was once more reaching across the table divide, pumping Nick's paw up and down as though they'd known each other all their lives.

"Mr. Wilde, why didn' ya tell me! Ah'll be! Ah'll be. Judy Hopps, engaged to a fox. Ya could'a blown me over wi' a feather. I can't even begin ta tell ya how happy Ah'm fer the two o' ya."

"Uh. Thanks…"

"An' fer good measure, go 'head an' take TWO pies—one fer ya, an' one fer Judy."

 _Well!_

"You just tell Mr. an' Mrs. Hopps that I'll cover the cake, no cost!"

Okay, this generosity was getting a bit out of hand. Suddenly he understood what Judy had been talking about earlier, a sense of panic starting to develop.

"I can' even tell you _how_ happy Ah'm," this was punctuated by the other fox starting to tear up, and with some awkwardness Nick felt the desperate need to save his paw from further shaking. "I'm sure glad that mah actions didn' get in the way of the two of ya findin' true love."

"Excuse me?"

The other fox faltered a moment, free paws suddenly halting. Then they tucked themselves into his chest abruptly, whereupon they took up twiddling as a hobby. Behind him the ferret's eyes widened, and she attempted to busy herself with picking up her abandoned loaf, paper once more in hand, "ya mean she di'n tell you?"

The comment of, 'well, _obviously not_ ,' was stifled along with other impatient feelings. The police officer shook his head instead, not trusting himself to speak for fear of what would come out.

"Oh, well, gee. I dunno if I'm supposed ta say, but…" the other vulpine deliberated, looking uncomfortable as he dragged things out. However, just as Nick was starting to imagine him shaking the other animal, Gideon continued, "…when we was young, ya could say we had a…well, we di'n get along. Frankly, I was a jerk ta her. Once I even took a swipe a' her."

The confession took the wind right out of Nick's sails, leaving him gaping at the baker, mouth open and ears thrown back. After a couple of seconds of processing, during which Mr. Grey never stopped fidgeting with anxiety and guilt, Nick resisted the urge to run a paw over his face before quietly speaking.

"You're…you're joking."

The uncertain addendum of, 'right?' was left unspoken.

The pie maker merely blinked into a slow, hesitant hunch, "I've bin feelin' awful bad fer years. 'specially with the scars. They was good an' bright in high school, but it looks like the fur's filled in. I'm glad fer her, an' it's real kind of Judy that she's let it go enough ta move on and find the right mammal. 'Specially since yer a fox, too. I wouldn' 'ave wanted to git in the way of tha'."

Clapping Nick on the shoulder hard enough to knock him sideways (giving him a pretty good idea of what Kit-Gideon might have been able to do to Kit-Judy), his opposite smiled, "I guess what Ah'm tryin' to say is that Ah'm happy fer ya two. Good luck with all the preparin' an' things. I'm yer fox if yeh ever need anything made up special-like."

~/~/~

She wasn't quite sure if the effort of bobbing for carrots was worth the drenching she got, her shirt front dripping with water and a shared community of germs that could be only found at a town festival. But it made her sisters happy, so who was she to complain?

Futilely trying to ring the moisture out, she absently began searching for a figure incongruously wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

"Judy!" her name was said in an excited shout and then suddenly a tall figure was loping toward her, feline limbs long and fast as light golden fur rushed toward her.

The rabbit felt the sudden need to brace herself for moment until the dust settled and she looked up…and up…and up.

Then a grin broke across her face.

"Well, if it isn't Bobby Catmull!" she said in a shout, and before he could crouch to her level she jumped up on top of the wooden roof of Joseph Hogarth's onion and potato cart. Unlike many of its brothers, made of straw and sticks, this one was sturdy enough to hold her weight as she continued the conversation muzzle-to-muzzle.

Both of them immediately dove into a hug which resulted in the larger animal grasping her like a stuffed animal and the smaller one almost suffocating in his dark blue T-shirt. But the couple of seconds that passed were quick enough that she was able to mask her shortness of breath as a side effect of the height.

"How are you?"

"How've you been?"

They laughed and took a moment. He answered first.

"I'm doing really well. I'm working as a sound artist for Hyena Gomez."

She let out an honest gasp, "you're kidding me! That's fantastic to hear. Wow! I'm just—wow!"

The cougar let out a humble laugh, hands in his pockets, "yeah, I know, right? Big shock."

"You're telling me," she laughed, fake-punching his arm in which she knew probably had all the effect of a gentle poke. "Everyone's so different, and it's only been a couple of years! I just saw Jag—he's become a Tax Consultant. And Sharla—!"

"I saw the NASA shirt," the cat nodded with a smile. "Did you catch the engagement bracelet?"

" _No!_ " Judy gasped. "Not her, too!"

"It seems to be catching," Bobby chuckled, "and look who's talking, it seems you've found someone, too." He nodded his head in the direction Nick stood—not that she could follow his gaze. It was easy enough for the tall predator to find her gingery fox in the middle of the crowd, even if she couldn't. "I have to admit that I'm surprised. Especially after Gid…"

"Gideon apologized a while ago," she said quickly, hoping her friend would take the hint and roll with it. She wasn't sure how news of her 'engagement' had spread so fast, but it had. "He's really changed. Gid and my parents are actually business partners now."

"I'm happy to hear it. I remember how upset we all were when we found out what he'd done," something in his nonchalant tone caused her to pull back in surprise. Bobby seemed to sense her uncomfortable confusion and took in a deep breath, paws on hips. "I mean, I know that you didn't want us to make a big deal about it at the time, but…still…"

Her expression was neutral, but she attempted an encouraging smile. It was better to find out what people had been really thinking all this time—rip the Band-Aid off all at once.

The big cat sighed and folded his massive arms, "my mom was really worried for a while. That someone would say that it wasn't safe for preds and prey to go to school together, and then my sister and I would have to drop out and start homeschooling. So I'm glad that it all turned out okay."

The part of her gut that ached sometimes when she thought of her mistakes decided to flare up, and without realizing it the grey bunny started wringing the edge of her shirt, "Bobby…I'm so sorry, I didn't even…I mean…I had no idea that was…that was even a thing that anyone would need to worry about. Especially back then."

Noticing her anxiety, he coughed into his fist, then waved a paw, "well, it all blew over, so it was okay. The fact that you just explained it as standard Bully behavior kind of took the edge off of it, I think. It was just the first time that I really realized that we—my family and some of the other kits and cubs in school—were different. And that something that I had no control over—my felinity—could cause problems. It was a wakeup call."

"Oh, Bobby," she murmured, trying to reach out to him with her paws, but he was too far away. He kindly met her in the middle, allowing her to pat his forearm.

He continued, reflectively.

"I saw some of that in Zootopia last year—during the Savage Attacks—and I know that you probably feel guilty about that, but don't be. Sometimes mammals just need an excuse to be their worst selves. So don't blame yourself. I saw you, way back then, and could tell that you meant well at the time. So consider this my late attempt at reassuring you," he shrugged and smiled slightly, his shoulder rolling smooth and lithe. "And don't let people get you down if they knock you for your relationship with him," he waved a gentle paw into the crowd, "just focus on the 'Happy' of life. If you guys are happy together, then all the Specism won't get you down."

She didn't even know what to say to that, especially in light of their fake relationship. So she simply nodded.

"I go by Rob now, by the way," he added with a slight smile, brown eyes thoughtful, "and congrats for making it to Precinct One in Zootopia."

"Thanks. Thank you B-Rob. I appreciate it."

~/~/~

After her talk with 'Rob' she'd been snatched up by a handful of hens—not the literal kind, but the nosy busybody kind—who tried to disguise their need to get all the 'details' from her about her relationship with a predator from behind a veil of sweetness and motherly concern. She'd managed to escape with all limbs intact, but it had been a near thing.

With that in mind, she was ready to call the evening done—and it wasn't even dark enough yet to set off any fireworks. A true low mark if there ever was one, given that her family always stayed for the whole thing, turning on the radio on their cars to add musical accompaniment to the show. But that was just how it was.

So there she found herself scrambling through the crowds with a body that was already tired…and a temper that was very, very short. And a heart that was heavy at the same time. It was an exhausting combination.

"Nick. _Nick_ ," she said as she tried to maneuver through the crowds to where her partner was. Usually she was better at this kind of thing, after having lived in Zootopia, but she'd gotten out of practice when it came to crowds of mammals her _own_ size. At least Nick, with his orange fur and slightly taller height, wasn't someone easily lost. Many of the other predators present were much the same—rising above their neighbors like trees, looming overhead while she was trapped in a "grassland" of bunny ears.

When she finally managed to squeeze past that last gaggle of giggling adolescents, she came stumbling to a stop beside him. Paw immediately outstretched to tug on his sleeve, "Nick, I think that we've made enough of an appearance. I'm ready to blow this joint if you are."

Something in his expression cut her off.

It had a conflicted-ness to it that wasn't what she expected. His mind was processing something he'd heard—that much she could tell. She hadn't come this far as a partner without learning his 'tells.' But it was colored with an emotion similar to sadness.

"Hey, Nick…you okay over there, Partner?"

"What?" he started. "Oh, hey Carrots. You enjoying yourself so far?"

She hesitated, not wanting to lie, "well, I—."

Whatever she was about to say got cut off from behind.

"Hey, ya two! Yer missin' the best part!"

The words were her only warning, and then she found herself being escorted by Gideon Grey toward the festival 'square.' She tried not to suffocate on the fur surrounding her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders (Nick appeared to be just as trapped under the other arm, she noticed in the few moments when she jostled slightly in that direction). Various faces in the crowd also did double-takes as their incongruous trio passed by, visible in flashes.

Then, with no further ado, they were shoved forward.

"It's the couples' dance!" he explained his actions with a grin, "I made 'em wait fer ya!"

She didn't have the heart to let out the groan that was desperately building in her chest, instead putting on a weak smile and giving him a limp wave, "alright. Thanks…Gid…"

Well. If the whole town wasn't aware of their 'engagement' before, they definitely were now.

 _Exactly_ what she had always wanted, she thought sarcastically.

Nick, not understanding the magnitude of the dance, was solemnly caught in his thoughts as he led her toward the group of couples, and the rabbit could practically feel his sigh of gratitude when it turned out that this wasn't a complicated square dance, but a slow cover of an old country song (something about the buck losing everything important in his life, from his truck to his farm, but that the thing he missed the most was the love of his life. Judy wasn't quite sure how this constituted a 'love ballad,' given its depressing nature. But that was country music for you). Which meant that her partner didn't have to worry about learning new dance steps, and they could actually carry a conversation without worry about being overheard.

He started by hoisting her up with one arm, locking just behind her hips the way that she might pick up a kit. This might have been the cause of the heat which rushed through her, or it could have been that other paw of his, which guided her own to rest against his upper chest.

The rush of whispers was instantaneous and obvious, even below the strum of several guitars and a banjo. Judy traced it to the edge of the crowd where a herd of matronly rabbits, plus four or five sheep, were whispering among themselves while their eyes followed the interspecies couple. It was group made up of mothers of schoolmates, former schoolteachers, with a smattering of concerned community members—most of which she'd already offended off and on again in her exuberant desire for justice.

To be honest, when she'd moved to Zootopia she'd put most of her small-town experience behind her, surrounding herself in the culture and speed of the environment she now lived in. But it was easy for old feelings—of being a loner, a misfit, an oddball—to come rushing back in the face of their disapproval.

She groaned, dropping her head against his chest, "I am never going to live this one down, am I?"

"Sounds like you're ashamed of me, there," he commented with humor. But something in his smile was missing, she realized as she drew back to look up at him.

Her response was instant, "no, of course not. It's just…Bunnyburrow's a small town, and they only have so much news to…rehash. Continually. On repeat."

"Ah, the small-town curse, I see," he nodded with sage thoughtfulness, "well. Truthfully, I've never experienced it, myself, but according to Daytime Soaps it can be a killer."

She groaned yet again, "Nick, just…stop."

"Hey, I'm just trying to be the understanding _fiancée_ you _need_ me to be."

"Right, of _course_ ," she remarked with some humor, which then settled into something softer. They were already caught in the middle of small town scandal, so…might as well, take advantage of it, right? Shifting her arms from his upper chest to around his neck, she continued the floating two-step he was directing, her arms resting against his ruff, her fluffy cheek leaning into him just over his heart. It was something she might have died from embarrassment over, but after waking up beside him just that morning…it felt completely right.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

"Nick. I know that I've been kind of…cranky. And complaining a lot. But…I just wanted to thank you. For trying to protect me. I know that you made that 'fake boyfriend' offer a while ago, but I don't think I ever really thanked you for it. So…I appreciate it. And for the 'engagement' stuff—well, it was definitely a surprise! But I appreciate your quick thinking. I mean, it was definitely one of those 'fake your death' kind of moments—going for the extreme reaction. But it seems to have worked. Mrs. Harrison backed off. And, if anything, there's no pity."

"True," he murmured, leaning in close to move his paws to wrap around her shoulders, "who would pity you being engaged to a foxy Copper like me?"

She punched him in the shoulder, earning both an 'oof' and a belated laugh. They continued twirling for several minutes, content to enjoy each other's company, until something hesitant crept into his expression.

Judy, finally relaxed after an evening of stress, registered it around the same time his paw went to cup her left cheek, brushing the fur slightly back. The move might have been construed as romantic by their spectators at large if not for the worry she could see up close and personal.

At her questioning look he sighed. Then spoke, not quite looking her in the eyes, "why didn't you tell me, Carrots?"

"Tell you what?"

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, before making eye contact. Nick's green gaze was neutral, "I spoke with your pal, Gideon Grey."

"Well, that explains why he felt comfortable enough to shove us into the circle. He's the one that baked the blueberry pies they have for sale, you know," she remarked, still confused.

"I am aware," Nick's chuckle was a tad rueful.

"He and my parents are business partners, now. They made the change when I first became an officer. I honestly couldn't be prouder of them."

"Really," he murmured, "well, that explains the free cake comment."

"What?"

"Nothing." Nick sighed. "He told me about some of your escapades, from when you were young," the fox explained lightly.

"Oh?" head tilted in confusion, Judy frowned. Then nearly jumped out of his arms in sudden realization. "Oh! He didn't…what did he tell you, _exactly?_ "

His thumb brushed against her cheek pointedly, one eyebrow going up as though to say, _'what do you think, Carrots?'_

The grey bunny once again sighed, face-planting into his shirt for the second time that night.

"Why didn't you tell me that you had your own 'Muzzle Experience', Carrots?" he murmured, running the pads of his paw over her long ears soothingly. Judy didn't say anything, but he must have felt her shiver.

"Maybe because I was hoping that I could forget it, too," she said, muffled, before pulling back and trying to flatten the creases she'd just created in her fur. " _You know_ how I reacted at the press conference. That was bad enough without adding personal bias into things."

"I'm not sure if bias and a response based on trauma are the same thing, 'Bun Bun.' If you'd told me then…"

 _Maybe I would have been more understanding._ The words went unspoken. But she hadn't wanted any excuse for her actions—she'd reacted badly, and would take responsibility for it.

"Don't call me that," she kicked him lightly in the stomach, causing Nick to grunt. "And don't give me a way out. I was a jerk, and you know it."

" _Well,_ if there's nothing I can do but agree…" he teased.

"I just…I _care_ about you," his fingers stilled on her long appendages, "and I didn't want something that happened with _one_ fox to affect my interactions with every other fox I meet. I mean, you're a conman but you're not going to outright hurt me; I knew that even then. Okay, Finnick might, but that's another story," her smile and his were matching shades of ironic.

"And besides, there are plenty of jerk bunnies out there without me using my childhood experiences as a crutch."

Nick's expression was deadpan, "which leads us back to this evening's shenanigans, courtesy of dear old Mr. and Mrs. Harrison."

"Oh, I do _not_ want to talk about that—don't you even dare!" she challenged, and by the wicked grin on his face she knew that he wasn't going to listen. Which she somehow loved, anyway.

"What, you mean the fact that Mrs. H was shocked that we ate the same food?" he said with a smirk. "Can you imagine what she was thinking? You, a vicious killer rabbit, turned to the dark by your bloodthirsty true love."

He pulled her in close, wiggling his eyebrows, but the effect was rather opposite of what he'd expected—in moving forward his lips had brushed against the fur of her cheek. Both her eyes flew wide and her ears shot up, as something _zinged_ through Judy's veins at his proximity. This obviously was not what he'd been aiming for, and she could see how arrested he became by the way his grip seemed to tighten around her, his heart rate almost as rapid as her own bunny one was.

He'd been shocked to the point of coming to a standstill in the middle of the dance. But eventually Nick coughed and restarted his feet when a pig couple almost bumped into them, the flamboyant male in gold dancing circles around his much shier—if beaming—blonde, partner. (If she didn't know any better Judy would have said that she'd seen the female pig before somewhere in Zootopia...?) Somewhere in Judy and Nick's conversation the 'serious couples only' song had switched to a catchy popular tune—"Everybunny's Got Some Bunny But Me"—a local favorite.

"You okay there, Carrots?" he asked slowly, beneath the sound of strumming instruments, the chatting and shuffling feet as the 'dance floor' filled up.

"Yeah," she finally said, a little breathy. "I was just…imagining me. Murdering everyone here. Blood in my teeth. With a side of cabbage. The usual."

Her attempt at levity—and her usual morbid sense of humor—took the tension out of him.

"Well, if you feel the need to unload those feelings…let me know. Maybe I can help with them," his words were somehow less of a joke and more serious than she was comfortable with, green eyes intent on hers. "Anyway, if you've got anything else you'd like to get off your chest—fox related trauma, a fox stealing your lunchbox and also your heart, stuff like that—don't feel like you have to tiptoe around my feelings to do it, alright? I care about you, too. So I don't want your allergy to, oh, _handsome devils_ to get in the way of our ability to…to work together," he finished, although she was pretty certain that wasn't what he'd intending on saying.

"Roger that, Officer Wilde," she quipped quietly, hugging him to show her affection. This time his arms went around her to hold on for several seconds, and in that pause her best friend buried his muzzle into the fur at her collar, breathing her in.

Her heart stopped in her chest. His voice was a rumble against her neck.

"Good. Now let's go scandalize some more herd animals."

~/~/~

 **AN:**

Firstly, **MRS. HARRISON IS NOT BASED ON 'STEVEN'S' REAL MOM.** She's actually based on a woman from my mother's hometown. My mom has a learning disability so, when she was fostered into the family that later adopted her, she was in sixth grade on a second grade reading level. Rather than help her, the Resource room teacher, as well as various others, believed that she was "retarded" (this is a quote), comparing her to my Uncle with Down Syndrome, and that she would (and I quote, again), "Never Amount to Anything."

But my mother is awesome and has never let things like that get in the way. :) So she now has a Degree in Paralegal Sciences and is an avid reader, encouraging us to do the same.

But that is just one of many experiences that she had in that small town of hers.

On that note, no offense to anyone who lives in a small town and loves it—my descriptions are based off of my mother's experiences growing up in a small ( _dying_ ) town. Where the minute you make a mistake everyone knows about it, and no one forgets it…even after nearly forty years, in her case.

If Judy seems indecisive in her responses, it can all be attributed to the fact that she's now a Zootopian…but is still stuck remembering the trauma of her Bunnyburrow childhood/young adulthood.

Other notes:

-I was Miss Prism in _The Importance of Being Earnest_ in my senior play, so there you go with that reference.

-The concept of an engagement bracelet instead of a ring for Judy's sheep friend is actually not my idea—I got it from another person's fanfic, in the "Sing!" (Illumination Studios) fandom. Because putting an engagement ring on an elephant is pretty much impossible. XD

On that note, if all ye of the Zootopia fandom are interested in reading more stories about interspecies animal couples, that's not a bad place to go. It's a rather small fandom right now, so it deserves some love. ;) I'm more of a JohnnyXMeena fan, but a lot of people are into JohnnyXAsh. Either way, show it some love if you can. :D (If you also like the idea of JohnnyXMeena, check out my sister's fanfic. It's called, "Our Fame and Fortune." Aaaaaand I may have created a music video for her on Youtube. You can find it under "Sing 2016 – You Matter – By Shahrezad1." See, I'm not just a one-trick pony. XD )

-Thank you, HawkTooth, for all of your editing help. I tried my best to follow your advice in this chapter. No promises on the quality. :S Still, I did my best, and if there are mistakes then at least I tried to meet you in the middle. –shrugs helplessly- There were a few instances where I felt that a sentence was being cut in half during a conversation, so needed no capitalization, but otherwise tried to follow your instructions exactly. :D Thanks again!


End file.
